Saturday, March 29, 2008

The Dumpster Gods Must Be Crazy, Part 3 of 8

The big, black, puma-sized cat hacked up a furball, looked at me scornfully and jumped down off its cardboard box watchtower and scurried off into the night. Some part of me said that that's what I ought to do, scurry off into the night, but I still had this . . . body to deal with.

The night was still; no sound of car or truck engines roaring across the nearby 405 freeway, no television infomercial noise wafting out of open bedroom windows, not even police sirens. It was strangely quiet for a big city, as if it was holding its breath, waiting for my next move. It was so quiet I thought I could hear the thrump thrump of my heart.


I looked at the woman's ass. Nice ass. A Los Angeles ass. The woman was definately an Angelino. Years of dealing with Los Angeles women has stropped my distrust of them until it is as sharp as a straight razor made from the finest German steel. This was going to be trouble, no matter what I did. There was still the option of shoving the protruding end of her into the dumpster and then, to use a colloquial pun, hightail it out of there.


For some reason I put my arms out, palms up, fingers pointing towards the woman's ass and legs sticking out of the dumpster and I looked around like I was prepared to catch anything that flew out of the woman's ass, or like I was a prophet who had just walked up on the burning bush, asking the great invisible god of the four winds, "Yeah? What do you want me to do with THIS?"


I looked around, my arms still unconsciously out as if to catch something falling out of the sky. I looked around. No one was coming to claim this body. Somehow, I was sure of that. No one was coming.


It was against my better judgment, counterintuitive to my best logic, contrary to my long experience with dealing with strangers in Los Angeles, especially Los Angeles women, and adverse to the storm of emotions screaming at me to get the fuck out of there, but I stepped up, leaned into the dumpster, grabbed the back of her blouse colar and yanked her straight up out of the dumpster until her high heeled feet found purchase on the pavement in front of the dumpster.


END PART 3

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