beulahbondo's Diaryland Diary
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Play "Layla" in the background
A friend writes:
DATELINE: Friday November 22, 2002
It was a night like no other...perhaps even more so...let me break it down for you in a verbal stylee...
COUNTRY LOFT
The evening's adventure starts at the charbroiled "rural industrial" loft residence of one Sgt. Donna Puma, set deep within the bowels of a turn o' the century distillery building in deepest Southie...a Moroccan oasis at the end of a labyrinthian journey through art, construction and gigantic sliding doors, the pad delights on many levels...(one shortcoming, for this purist: one wall of the bathroom is clad in AstroTurf, rather than the real thing)...sadly, it is soon to be erstwhile...calling all sublettors!
CITY LOFT
Another loft, another labyrinth...this one lands us on a landing, with 2 other partygoers, banging on a door which nobody answers...four characters in search of an entrance...has the party been cancelled?...is everybody inside hiding behind sofas, awating the cue to yell "surprise"?...just as we decide to repair to Lucky's, a disembodied voice (a woman upstairs, angered by our racket) directs us to the actual entrance, the proverbial two doors down...and there we are...more playground than residence, our gracious host's loft features a sleeping platform replete with rope ladder and jungle gym slide, a punching bag and a suspended parallel bar (upon which our gracious host performs a chin-up recital...5 and a half, by my count)...among those in attendance are Ron Coe and the ping pong crowd, the Real Original Greyhound, and a couple members of the Beulah Bondo Appreciation Society...also present is Captain Testosterone, who entertains us by slamming another American Gladiator against the wall (right next to Donna Puma) and yelling something like "keep yer meathooks off my best girl!" or "no effing way the Bills are smoking the Pats!"...in any event, it is a real fight and , for us at least, a turning point in the evening's festivities...a mass exit is agreed upon several minutes later when we overhear our gracious host tell somebody that "we need to deal with that situation"...the last time I heard a line like that was in "Goodfellas", and it ended with the exhuming of a rotting corpse...well, I, for one, was not about to become that rotting corpse...no thanks...
so, a veritable Smile Time Variety Hour of stuff...what can I say?...it was emotional...over and out...
your humble scribe,
Greyhound
Who wants the Greyhound to have a regular column? I do! Do you? Accept or decline here.
2:32 p.m. - 2002-11-23
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