greenteeth

pasta salad, melon, cookies at marjar's

I'm going to go visit Ben at Rival [Tattoo Studio]. I decide that I will take some veggie sushi with me. I'm in the CFA building, and find a sort of kitchen somewhere, make some sushi, arrange it densely on the curly-design glass serving tray. Some I don't wrap in nori, rather they are just rice and cucumber. These I term "Greenteeth." It is a reference to them, and somehow to myself, as well.

I take my bike up to Rival. The sushi conventiently dissappears for the bike trip, but reappears once I get there. I consider that Josh is probably expecting me, and I probably should get a hold of him, but I also think that I should be able to take a small trip out on my bike and tell him later and that's okay. I find a bike rack [there are actually several to choose from in and around the parking lot, one even just inside another store door. Pure fantasy.] and decide to dissassemble my bike a bit, take one tire off and lock it all together. There are a couple of shady types hovering around. I see one of the Pazt brothers, who knows which one, there on the sidewalk. One of the tattoo artists comes out and gets him, tells him its time. "You getting your tattoo today?" I ask. "Yeah. What do you have on your tattoos?" he replies. I don't really want to go into all of it. "Really abstract stuff," I say, "Like God, for instance." He walks in, stripping off his shirt. I try to cop a stare, but don't get much candy.

I go in with my rematerialized sushi platter. The place is packed. The wating room is trashy, undecorated, under construction. Industrial gray carpet. Grimy old couches, crappy TV. I sit down next to a girl I know [somewhere between Missy Goldenburg from high school and the girl from a move last night] and put down the sushi, offer it to everyone. People seem unenthused, and I'm a little disappointed, but I know that if I leave it, it will get eaten. There's a red marker on the table, I pick it up and start coloring the edges of some of the rolls. There seems to be ketchup or sweet'n'sour or blood or something on some of them, staining them. Missy has a piece. But then she exclaims, "Greenteeth?!? Who's Greenteeth?" I tell her that it's a joke about me. She says, "That's why I hate this so much." She seems genuinely angry, disgusted. I think she's being an incredibly prim bitch. I made sushi for everyone, didn't I?