The Autonomist
Just Another Snowbunny Rockin' The East Bay

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The Autonomist: Gymnast, Revolutionary, Youth Counselor

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Friday, September 10, 2004

Letter to Myisha

(a female inquiring about my roommate wanted ad)

Myisha, Hey, I'm down. Are you wanting the whole room for $550 or split $275/each?
The thing is, I need to ask if you are black. I'm not racist at all but
my Indian immigrant roommate and
many of his friends have been robbed or robbed and beaten by black guys.
They are fairly intolerant now to all black people. We live on the thug side of town,
but safe apartment complex... I said in remedial english, "some black
people bad, some good." A friend of theirs told me, white looking, "I
like white people." I laughed and said some of them will drop bombs on
you and jack your resources if you don't sell them super cheap, but he
just smiled and changed the subject...

I dunno, if you are female, I doubt my housemate would be afraid of you
if you would like to still meet up. I can talk to him...


Sunday, September 05, 2004

Low End Prostitution?

The other day under a bountiful fig tree shielding us from the hot sun, I met another dirty beautiful punk girl. She even had a rat companion, and was talking about going to a roadkill barbeque. Me and this other kid laughed about how many bazillion punk points we'd get if we came home with a roadkilled raccoon or parts of a deer in our backpacks. Rat Girl didn't think it was too funny but she had just smoked some pot and
was excited to find another kleptomaniac sitting right next to me. Definitely no rain on our parade.

I tried to brag about the bags of goodies like nutritional yeast flakes
and granola that is donated by a health food store to me under
the cover of Food Not Bombs (stuff that customers wrapped and then
changed their minds about). But I don't know if that even impressed
them. They like the rush of crime and sticking it to the Man, I think.

So I asked these kids if they'd like to go dumpster dive with me after
sundown. To my surprise, Rat Girl said yes, and made good on her word.
I guess since she's not familiar with the area and doesn't have a whole
lot of money, she wanted to go with me. All the more since I had a
second bike I had scavenged and built up (sold today for $60). Not that
she really liked me.

At my prisonesque apartment complex I layed in bed wondering if I could
actually be comfortable around someone I thought was so rad and
exceptionally hot. But it was the other way around. I showed up late
and she had switched out of her short homemade denim skirt into what
looked like mens boxer shorts she had found at the Free Box and we took
off. I tried to make small conversation that would reveal I wasn't a
sociopath out to assault her in the vacant streets of industrial
Emeryville("There's a whole bunch of other kids down the street that
want to go to" and mentioning my fear of walking at night after all the
personal stories I'd heard from good friends). But no matter what I
said, she could not, would not be friendly or care free. As she scanned
the rail yard, preparing for her train hop Northward to Eugene, I said "Oh,
check it out! There's a brake in the fence. Rat Girl: Yeah, I already
saw it back there. (I can take care of myself. I don't need some guy.
I'm not stupid). Me (as an Amtrak train rolled by): That'd be funny to
hop on an Amtrak train and wave at the passengers on the inside, the
look on peoples faces...." Rat Girl: (forced laugh).

And as we surveyed the rail yard I tried to send the message that I wasn't all needy and
wanting to smother her with unwanted affection by not riding so close.
Once I road ahead of her and she went the other direction unannounced and disappeared,
leaving me wondering if I still had a second bike. I waited in the
vacant intersection and after a few minutes she came pedalling back. On
her way back she thought the way home was south on Hollis when in
actuality it was north. Rat Girl said she'd let me lead the way since
I'm familiar with the area (but when I looked back she was creeping
along a block and a half in back of me, as if I was possibly leading her
into harms way. When I stopped to pick some cactus to stir fry she kept
on riding.

Well, I guess she got what she wanted: some sausages from Trader Joe's
dumpster, an opportunity to ride bikes and a chance to plan for her
train trip out of the East Bay. Me, I got some company with a lonely