Friday, August 12, 2011


A couple of months ago, Chris bought a truck. Last weekend, he crammed its shell full of camping gear, sparing only enough room for Nico and a few succulents. Joel offered himself as co-pilot for the nearly 3,000-mile drive east, where C will spend the next two years at grad school.

A few things I inherited:

Beer: 1 can of La Playa, 1 bottle of San Miguel, 1 bottle of Red Stripe
1 bottle of Jagermeister
1 bottle of Pamplemousse Rose Perrier
Assorted frozen foods including (but not limited to): cheese blintzes, chocolate soy ice cream sandwiches, TJs vegetable gyoza potstickers, eggplant & zucchini, a bag of frozen corn, mini croissants
1 ice pack
1 Bikini Kill cassette tape
1 Crass cassette tape (a gift for Dicky)
1 broom
1 dust pan
1 roll of bubble wrap
Assorted cleaning products
1 bottle of hydrogen peroxide
1 bottle of isopropyl rubbing alcohol
6 light bulbs (of varying shapes, sizes and wattage)
a pile of recycling (which remains near my front door, awaiting transfer to its temporary resting place in the blue bins outside my apartment)
houseplants: 1 mother-in-law's tongue, 1 Euphorbia Obesa, 1 purple shamrock (grown from a cutting I'd given Chris as a housewarming gift when he moved back to L.A.).
1 Echo Park Time Travel Mart mug
countless strands of dog hair

Chris spent his last night in L.A. at my apartment, and when I woke Sunday morning, he'd already picked up Joel. I could hear them bounding up and down the stairs, loading up the truck. I didn't want to watch, so I hid in my room for a while, and when I sensed they were nearing the end, I made my way downstairs, into the unwelcome sunlight. The truck was parked in front of my building and they were making the final adjustments. My neighbor -- a middle-aged black woman to whom I had never said more than "Hello" -- was taking photographs, trailing Chris and Joel, their arms laden with boxes and crates, like she was some kind of moving day paparazzi.

She turned to me.

"I'll get you the pictures later. You'll want to remember this day."

Which is funny because I've already forgotten the moment his truck pulled away.


Anonymous said...

This is a beautiful entry, with a brilliant last line. Granted, I'm a little high, but that last line killed me.

Judy Gloom said...

not necessarily intended, but thanks, Stoney.

Chris said...

Hey, I have an address now. Could you send me my stuff A.S.A.P.? Thx!

Judy Gloom said...

no dice. i ate everything including the lightbulbs.