journal entry

August 1, 1996

I’m at the Pink Pony now, waiting to begin the ritual of being broken in to a new job. This is a real neighborhood homebody place. So far all I’m doing is sitting on a couch. I’m grateful that this place has windows, a lot of light. Jane is training me
tonight. Cool, I’m happy about that. I won’t be too lonesome.

Good thing to know! The evening shift is 5 to midnight — 1:00. I guess the day shift is 10:30 to 5:30. Well, I mean, who gives a shit actually. I just need to make some money — fast!

Some girl sitting at the bar is checking me out. I think she thinks she’s the cute chick on the block . She is cute, but she’s a bit too cute. Like, she’s trying to overcompensate for something.

Josh is cute behind the counter. He reminds me of a cross between Josh Yerrington (aka Johnny Tastemaker) and Jon from Angelica Kitchen.

Yuck! The cute chick is singing Madonna songs like a black chick. She reminds me of the dingy blonde girl from Saved by the Bell.

Last night, when Francis and I were going to sleep, we couldn’t. We were so excited about today. I’m so happy to get out of smelly, grey Krystaltech. We’re getting our microphone today, too! Yahoo!

We were talking about the TV show Fame, how shows like that don’t exist anymore. We both loved that show. Francis remembers the show where they did a play and danced to the song Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush. I said, “Remember The Wiz and when the chubby Jewish actress became anorexic? When Danny was doing speed and the English teacher made him hold a piece of paper on the palm of his hand and he couldn’t keep it still? Bruno, Coco, the dance teacher and Mr. Stravinsky the music teacher?” I want a clip of the dance teacher (Debbie Allen) saying, “You’re gonna have to work hard —and SWEAT.”

That show was an inspiration for me. I am afraid for kids today; they have no inspirational shows. I’ll just have to work hard, and sweat, to be an inspiration.

Oh, I’m sleepy. My fingers are stinging from playing guitar.

There are three men sitting at the bar: Carlos, a Spanish (Mexican?) man who always wears jodhpurs and 16-hole red doc martin boots. His hair is down to the middle of his back, dark brown. He has small braids in his hair. The other man is a drummer in Joe’s band. I see him all the time but I don’t know his name. He’s good-looking, a strong mediterranean face, little dreadlocks all over his head. (Shimon?) He has the sweetest dog. He’s wearing plaid pants and a mauve t-shirt. The other man, I don’t know at all, but I assume if he’s talking to Carlos, I’ve seen him around. He’s wearing black jeans and black motorcycle boots and a black shirt with gold spots.

~ ~ ~ ~

Ludlow Street
Lower East Side, New York
August 1, 1996

Photo – from CBGB’s Photo Booth – 1992?