[John's brows furrow. He doesn't like how familiar the town name sounds, just off the top of his head. But he's pleasantly surprised for a moment. The basic search shows that indeed, it's a real place. It's real! It's truly real!
But despite seeing pictures of the place, and browsing through the official town website, something still feels off. And that something is wearing away at him, making him wonder if he should trust the site and if he should go further with the search.
John doesn't want to. He wants to leave it be. But he doesn't.
A further google shows him that this too is potentially pop culture. Literally everything about Ronstadt comes from fiction of some kind. And it's breaking John's heart in a way that almost angers him.
He's in too deep, with someone with serious problems. But then again, no one is a problem like John Constantine is a problem. So they can be walking issues together.] Hemingford Nebraska is a real place. [He purses his lips, uncomfortable.] But Hemingford Home, Nebraska is fictional. Suppose we'll have to do a little more research.
[Ronstadt throws his head back so fast and so hard that he clocks it on the back of the booth with a solid thwack. Only the thatch of electrified linguine keeps him from making himself see stars]
Sonovabitch...!
[He reaches back, feeling the back of his head for a wet patch the way most do after a hefty crack to the braincase.]
...Well, they say bad things come in threes. No girlfriend, no real hometown, and now this.
[John checks the back of Ronstadt's head too, although he doesn't think it's too bad. Feels alright, but that combined with a large amount of alcohol means that John's not letting him go home alone tonight.]
You've got a home town. It might not be the place you thought, but you have one none the less. The city of angels where you belong. You're one of her people, after all. [He thinks that Ronstadt would be high on Angela's favored list. Not that he wants to think about her at all right now. Perhaps not ever.] You might not have a girlfriend but you're certainly not alone. Birds can be found just about anywhere, that'll get sorted out in time. [John selfishly hopes not.] And that hit to the head just landed you with supervision for the evening.
[Maybe it's the knock on the head. Maybe it's the half dozen Mai Tais. Maybe it's just Ronstadt's absolute and total, consuming yearning to belong, to know himself and know that there's a Place For Him in the universe. But it's almost like Constantine knows exactly what Ronstadt needed to hear. He manages a smile that's pained in a few ways, but genuine nonetheless]
Thanks.
Supervision, though? Hope you're cool with crashing on my floor. Or maybe Gus has a cheap air mattress in the garage.
Yes, supervision. I'm lacking in decent companionship. And between the booze and the knock you just got? I'd rather not risk losing you over something so stupid. Besides, I'm broke and can't afford to pay for your burial.
[The tone is light, he's joking. But he's serious about how much he cares for Ronstadt. Ronstadt is his friend, and is already incredibly important to him. And if he loses him? There's no one really left for John.] I can assure you that I've slept in far less comfortable places. Usually far drunker than this too.
You could just torch me and toss me in the ocean, I guess, if it really came right down to it. I never thought about that stuff before.
Now that I'm in this line of work, though ... maybe I should.
[He drags his hands over his face]
But yeah, if you wanna come crash at my pad, I can at least show you those crazy tapes Hattie gave me. The Side B magic for dummies stuff I mentioned the other day. You might get a kick out of 'em. We can call up an Uber Eats. What're you feeling? Chinese? Mexican? Thai? ... Italian?
Enough of that for now. You're staying in one piece if I have anything to say about it.
[John wants to distract Ronstadt from anything dark at this point. Even if, yes, it's a good idea to think about what you want after death in this line of work, John doesn't want to think about it at all. John can't handle it, his heart can't take the idea of Ronstadt dying.
And the urge to run hits again. It's so easy to be a coward, to just get out before it's too deep and before he has a chance to fuck something up or get someone caught up in something bigger. Side B is a trip and it's got a hell of a lot of dangers to it. But the American scene is just one piece of the puzzle. And what chases John is eternal.
But John's selfishness wins. He likes Ronstadt, incredibly. And he won't walk away just to protect either of them when he wants him so badly.]
Sounds like a plan. [He can't imagine what the Side B for dummies would be like, if it's a literal take on the series or a silly mockery thereof or just someone delightfully dumbing down the supernatural for a new player in a very dangerous game. Either way, take out sounds delightful.] Let's do Chinese. Haven't had it since I was last in London.
[The juxtaposition of the two concepts makes him laugh, bright and genuine and sharp]
Lemme guess. Big dish of beef chow mein?
[He hoped John had listened to Warren Zevon at least once in his life, or he was going to look like even more of the giant dork he was. Then again, if he hadn't, there was a reason Ronstadt had a slightly bitchin' record collection.]
How'd you get here? You drive, or are we taking the train?
[John's face is lacking any sign of recognition at first. If he gets the reference, which he does, it doesn't show in the least.]
I'd much rather get some crispy duck or house fried rice. [He pushes himself to his feet, and stretches. He came via portal but they'd best just take the train.] Let's go for the train after I settle the tab. [He tilts his head, a little sheepish for a moment.] I've been told I'm not to be trusted behind the wheel. [No license, no skills, rarely remembers the right side of the street to go on here.] Besides, heard a rumor about lycanthropes attacking old ladies locally. Maybe we'll see one on the way. [There's a smile then, he can't help himself. Of course he's heard that song!]
You want house fried rice, I know the perfect place to call out.
[he hoists his drink and downs the last of it, totally done with the concept of getting sauced over a breakup, at this point. now it's much more about spending some quality chill time with a new friend. much, much better option.]
Train it is, we'll just be careful when we go past the tailor. Need me to slip you my spare card or you got some magic trick for the fare?
[He may want to see how long they can make this joke last]
[John doesn't even care about finishing his drink, isn't thinking of anything like that. Ronstadt is officially more interesting to him than getting drunk, and he's pretty committed to alcohol and his imbibement.]
Oh, I've got a trick up my sleeve. [He goes over to pay off the tab, and there's something this time that feels good about spending the money here. This is a place special to Ronstadt, and in that sense he wants to be honest here and not cheat them. A bigger place? Sure. They'd be swiping a fake card. He pays cash for both of them though.
And it's nearly the last of what he has in pocket money.] Well, you ready?
Is that so? [It'd probably be far less impressive to the two of them if they knew that he had a bad habit of cheating at gambling and swindles demons that he summons for that purpose on the regular. He hasn't had a day of honest work in his adult life. It was either his shitty band attempt, gambling, or theft. His magic habits are expensive, and a day job doesn't exactly make for the needed amounts of time and money to fuel the obsession.
It's paid off though. And now, Ronstadt is paid off.] Luv, next time you won't be so happy to see me. I wear out my welcome fast. [He grins at Monty as they head out, and honestly he's glad that he visited. This is one hell of a place, and the environment is one that he wants to experience again.
Once out of the bar, he has to get in at least one more reference.] Well, it's no Trader Vic's but I think it's worth a return visit.
[he grins, throwing an arm around Constantine's shoulders. it's partly for balance, but mostly camaraderie as they plod toward the subway station. he hasn't done the drunken buddy shuffle, as far as he knows, and it seems like an opportunity he should take. he feels like he should sing.]
[It's been so long since he's enjoyed friendly drunken shenanigans with anyone. And while he's not entirely plastered, he's drunk enough to be loose and socially lubricated, mood easy now that Ronstadt isn't misery drinking.]
Werewolves of London! Ah-wooooooo! [His voice has really improved over the years. Mucus membrane had no hope, between shitty gigs and a lack of proper practice. And he doesn't think he could handle that life now. Not after all he's seen, all the magic and death and blood and darkness. But his love of music never died. And he never stopped singing.] Hey, mate, you into punk at all?
[Ronstadt gives a little toss of his wild hair and laughs]
You kidding me? I think one of the first vinyls I bought along with my used record player after I got my apartment was Brain Drain by the Ramones.
[Faye had done punk, too, but for someone so recently single, somehow she doesn't even cross his mind. He's having too much fun to mope. And even so, Dot Polka hadn't actually been ... all that great, in retrospect. Average.]
[There's only so many lyrics to the song, and John is way more focused on other things now. Mainly, punk music. It's still his favorite after all these years, he's moved on to many other genres but he'll never stop loving the music that made him want to be a star.] Fantastic album. Bloody underrated too. The Ramones were so damn good but I was always more for the Pistols. Some days I still think about getting some lyrics on me in ink. Never will, but it's always on the backburner you know? Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols is still pretty much my gold standard for listening.
[It's like the air around him is electrified now, warm and crisp, magic seeping out from a lack of control and exuberant energy.] Mate, tell me more songs you like. I wanna talk music with you all night.
Man, you sure you wanna do that? I'll talk till my jaw and your ears fall off.
[He laughs, well aware that it's even truer with them both tipsy.]
Shit, I wish my favorite record store was open late, I'd just take you in there and we could slam into the stacks. They've got listening stations and everything. But, uh ... yeah, Sex Pistols are right up there, too. That first power chord on Holidays In The Sun?
[he thumps a closed fist against his chest.]
Gets you right there. Almost as good as coffee if you run out in the morning. Let's see, what was I listening to the other day ... 'Hitler Bad, Vandals Good' by the Vandals. I had to put it on after I found a five in my shorts doin' laundry and got "Money's Not An Issue" stuck in my head.
[He's in his damn element now, feeling better than he has in ages. He's lost so much, but he's found Ronstadt and in the man he's found not only a friend to fuck around with but a confidant. Someone worthy of secrets. Someone worthy of opening up a little. But even better than that? Someone worthy to get a little vulnerable with while they're tipsy and stupid, and to talk music to and to share stupid stories with. Friendships are best when they're layered and complex, after all.]
We'll go tomorrow! I'm still relatively new to this fine city, and I don't know all her secrets yet. [He groans.] Learned more about her than I wanted to know, but there's always a few new things to figure out. [He's not quite drunk enough to talk about Angela casually without some prodding. But he's close. And after some Chinese and maybe a visit to the nearest offie for some fun booze. Stuff easy to drink to keep the mood up. He might just give Ronstadt the story about how he was wall fucked by the city herself. Or, uh, her collective memory anyway.
He's not sure they have offies here, though. They have to, he's sure of it. But he's not sure enough to just assume.] Hey! You've got offies here, yeah? I'm low on ciggies and I want to drink more with you tonight. But easy drinking, you know? Fun stuff, not to be sad about what might have been, I wanna celebrate what is. But anyway! Yeah! What were we talking about? The Vandals! They're good. I like them a good deal. Haven't heard that particular album in so long though.
[he waggles a finger at Constantine, grinning. he's about to demand that he share it, when John blurts out a word he's never heard before.]
Offies? I don't know what the heck an offie is, man, but I know where we can hook you up with booze and cancer sticks, no problem. There're a couple stores between the subway and my place. Especially in Koreatown, I've noticed, they're real big on keeping convenience stores open as late as they can. We can get a bucket of fried chicken too. Gonna sound weird, but you haven't lived until you've had good gas station chicken.
[The subway station stairwells poke up out of the concrete at the end of the block, and Ronstadt glances around. From the look on his face, he's looking for something he's not finding, but he doesn't seem terribly bothered by it]
And I'll tell you it. Eventually. Maybe tonight over our meal. [He tilts his head, it's so strange sometimes dealing with two very different takes on what is essentially the same damned language. But he's also in a fine mood so he can hand out lessons happily.] Offies, off-labels! The places you get your drinks and ciggies but you can't drink it there. Sometimes they've got other stuff, usually those shitty pre-made mixers and soft drinks, maybe something nicer ones in a while but it's really just for the booze. [He makes good use of those back home.] Doesn't matter where we go, mate. Long as we're going together and I get what I need. And that damn chicken. Gotta have that too.
[John glances around too, more than a little curious.] What are we missing?
[he's pretty sure that John just described 7-11 and Circle K, but ... then again, maybe these 'offies' are more like actual liquor stores, the outlets that are just aisles and aisles of booze sectioned by type. either way, there are a fair share of convenience stores in L.A. that sell straight booze, too, and a one-stop shopping trip sounds sublime, all things considered. a convenience store is more likely to let them walk out the door with a few bottles in their current state, to boot. he's about to say something to that effect, when John notices him looking around]
We're not missing anything, per se. I'm actually kinda glad.
[he leads John down into the station, where a busker is making a pretty decent go at Subterranean Homesick Blues. appropriate, Ronstadt thinks with a little smile]
There's a ghost who hangs out around here a lot, goes by 'Kneeslapper'. I don't mind him, but ... he's definitely an acquired taste, and if you let him he'll talk your ear off. I'm not in the mood for that, not when I've got better company.
[John doesn't care where they go, or what they do. They can wander around the city drunk for the rest of the night aimlessly as long as this mood continues. It's magical, it feels so much like new magic and youthful stupidity and it's a hell of a drug for John right now. Just the way he feels is enough to change the world in his opinion.
Too bad he won't feel so hopeful sober.]
Is that so? [John tosses a buck into the busker's open case, before continuing on with Ronstadt.] Kneeslapper? Sounds dismal. The more airs they put on the worse they are usually. I'm guessing the humor appeals to very select audiences. [John preens like a peacock at being called better company. He's having the best night he's had in ages.]
[every bit of loose change Ronstadt had left from his forays to the dispatchers' vending machine joins John's dollar as they pass and head for the turnstiles, where Ronstadt dutifully swipes his card]
Dismal is about it, yeah. He was a stand-up comedian when he was alive. The kind with a catchphrase, even. Some of his stuff is actually funny, but ... I think most of the time he's just glad someone can see him.
[Ronstadt is beginning to think that possibly everything nasty about Side B can be traced to the root cause of loneliness, and how desperate some people or things can get in the pursuit of company or approval. But that sort of philosophical shit is for a different flavor of drunk, one he's not even close to tonight, not anymore. He stays a comfortable distance from the platform, hands tucked in his jean pockets, waiting for the train.]
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no subject
Date: 2021-09-16 05:43 am (UTC)[Even as he says it, and knows it's true, he feels odd. Like that's a name that is linked to something else. but something good.]
Hemingford, Nebraska. Lots of farmland, really ... picture postcard stuff.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-17 02:20 am (UTC)But despite seeing pictures of the place, and browsing through the official town website, something still feels off. And that something is wearing away at him, making him wonder if he should trust the site and if he should go further with the search.
John doesn't want to. He wants to leave it be. But he doesn't.
A further google shows him that this too is potentially pop culture. Literally everything about Ronstadt comes from fiction of some kind. And it's breaking John's heart in a way that almost angers him.
He's in too deep, with someone with serious problems. But then again, no one is a problem like John Constantine is a problem. So they can be walking issues together.] Hemingford Nebraska is a real place. [He purses his lips, uncomfortable.] But Hemingford Home, Nebraska is fictional. Suppose we'll have to do a little more research.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-18 05:34 am (UTC)[Ronstadt throws his head back so fast and so hard that he clocks it on the back of the booth with a solid thwack. Only the thatch of electrified linguine keeps him from making himself see stars]
Sonovabitch...!
[He reaches back, feeling the back of his head for a wet patch the way most do after a hefty crack to the braincase.]
...Well, they say bad things come in threes. No girlfriend, no real hometown, and now this.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-18 03:57 pm (UTC)[John checks the back of Ronstadt's head too, although he doesn't think it's too bad. Feels alright, but that combined with a large amount of alcohol means that John's not letting him go home alone tonight.]
You've got a home town. It might not be the place you thought, but you have one none the less. The city of angels where you belong. You're one of her people, after all. [He thinks that Ronstadt would be high on Angela's favored list. Not that he wants to think about her at all right now. Perhaps not ever.] You might not have a girlfriend but you're certainly not alone. Birds can be found just about anywhere, that'll get sorted out in time. [John selfishly hopes not.] And that hit to the head just landed you with supervision for the evening.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-22 07:26 pm (UTC)Thanks.
Supervision, though? Hope you're cool with crashing on my floor. Or maybe Gus has a cheap air mattress in the garage.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-22 07:32 pm (UTC)[The tone is light, he's joking. But he's serious about how much he cares for Ronstadt. Ronstadt is his friend, and is already incredibly important to him. And if he loses him? There's no one really left for John.] I can assure you that I've slept in far less comfortable places. Usually far drunker than this too.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-22 08:51 pm (UTC)Now that I'm in this line of work, though ... maybe I should.
[He drags his hands over his face]
But yeah, if you wanna come crash at my pad, I can at least show you those crazy tapes Hattie gave me. The Side B magic for dummies stuff I mentioned the other day. You might get a kick out of 'em. We can call up an Uber Eats. What're you feeling? Chinese? Mexican? Thai? ... Italian?
no subject
Date: 2021-09-22 09:28 pm (UTC)[John wants to distract Ronstadt from anything dark at this point. Even if, yes, it's a good idea to think about what you want after death in this line of work, John doesn't want to think about it at all. John can't handle it, his heart can't take the idea of Ronstadt dying.
And the urge to run hits again. It's so easy to be a coward, to just get out before it's too deep and before he has a chance to fuck something up or get someone caught up in something bigger. Side B is a trip and it's got a hell of a lot of dangers to it. But the American scene is just one piece of the puzzle. And what chases John is eternal.
But John's selfishness wins. He likes Ronstadt, incredibly. And he won't walk away just to protect either of them when he wants him so badly.]
Sounds like a plan. [He can't imagine what the Side B for dummies would be like, if it's a literal take on the series or a silly mockery thereof or just someone delightfully dumbing down the supernatural for a new player in a very dangerous game. Either way, take out sounds delightful.] Let's do Chinese. Haven't had it since I was last in London.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-23 03:25 pm (UTC)Lemme guess. Big dish of beef chow mein?
[He hoped John had listened to Warren Zevon at least once in his life, or he was going to look like even more of the giant dork he was. Then again, if he hadn't, there was a reason Ronstadt had a slightly bitchin' record collection.]
How'd you get here? You drive, or are we taking the train?
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Date: 2021-09-23 06:27 pm (UTC)I'd much rather get some crispy duck or house fried rice. [He pushes himself to his feet, and stretches. He came via portal but they'd best just take the train.] Let's go for the train after I settle the tab. [He tilts his head, a little sheepish for a moment.] I've been told I'm not to be trusted behind the wheel. [No license, no skills, rarely remembers the right side of the street to go on here.] Besides, heard a rumor about lycanthropes attacking old ladies locally. Maybe we'll see one on the way. [There's a smile then, he can't help himself. Of course he's heard that song!]
no subject
Date: 2021-09-23 08:31 pm (UTC)[he hoists his drink and downs the last of it, totally done with the concept of getting sauced over a breakup, at this point. now it's much more about spending some quality chill time with a new friend. much, much better option.]
Train it is, we'll just be careful when we go past the tailor. Need me to slip you my spare card or you got some magic trick for the fare?
[He may want to see how long they can make this joke last]
no subject
Date: 2021-09-23 10:18 pm (UTC)[John doesn't even care about finishing his drink, isn't thinking of anything like that. Ronstadt is officially more interesting to him than getting drunk, and he's pretty committed to alcohol and his imbibement.]
Oh, I've got a trick up my sleeve. [He goes over to pay off the tab, and there's something this time that feels good about spending the money here. This is a place special to Ronstadt, and in that sense he wants to be honest here and not cheat them. A bigger place? Sure. They'd be swiping a fake card. He pays cash for both of them though.
And it's nearly the last of what he has in pocket money.] Well, you ready?
no subject
Date: 2021-09-23 11:24 pm (UTC)[he's still grinning, slurring just a bit as they head to the bar, and it's hard to say whose jaw drops more at the wad of cash: Monty or Ronstadt.]
"Sheez, Ronstadt, where you been hiding this guy?"
Hey. Good magicians never tell their secrets, Monty. ... Thanks again.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-24 12:06 am (UTC)It's paid off though. And now, Ronstadt is paid off.] Luv, next time you won't be so happy to see me. I wear out my welcome fast. [He grins at Monty as they head out, and honestly he's glad that he visited. This is one hell of a place, and the environment is one that he wants to experience again.
Once out of the bar, he has to get in at least one more reference.] Well, it's no Trader Vic's but I think it's worth a return visit.
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Date: 2021-09-24 01:34 am (UTC)[he grins, throwing an arm around Constantine's shoulders. it's partly for balance, but mostly camaraderie as they plod toward the subway station. he hasn't done the drunken buddy shuffle, as far as he knows, and it seems like an opportunity he should take. he feels like he should sing.]
Ah-woooooooooo~!
no subject
Date: 2021-09-24 02:29 am (UTC)Werewolves of London! Ah-wooooooo! [His voice has really improved over the years. Mucus membrane had no hope, between shitty gigs and a lack of proper practice. And he doesn't think he could handle that life now. Not after all he's seen, all the magic and death and blood and darkness. But his love of music never died. And he never stopped singing.] Hey, mate, you into punk at all?
no subject
Date: 2021-09-24 05:12 pm (UTC)[Ronstadt gives a little toss of his wild hair and laughs]
You kidding me? I think one of the first vinyls I bought along with my used record player after I got my apartment was Brain Drain by the Ramones.
[Faye had done punk, too, but for someone so recently single, somehow she doesn't even cross his mind. He's having too much fun to mope. And even so, Dot Polka hadn't actually been ... all that great, in retrospect. Average.]
no subject
Date: 2021-09-25 01:48 am (UTC)[It's like the air around him is electrified now, warm and crisp, magic seeping out from a lack of control and exuberant energy.] Mate, tell me more songs you like. I wanna talk music with you all night.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-25 09:48 pm (UTC)[He laughs, well aware that it's even truer with them both tipsy.]
Shit, I wish my favorite record store was open late, I'd just take you in there and we could slam into the stacks. They've got listening stations and everything. But, uh ... yeah, Sex Pistols are right up there, too. That first power chord on Holidays In The Sun?
[he thumps a closed fist against his chest.]
Gets you right there. Almost as good as coffee if you run out in the morning. Let's see, what was I listening to the other day ... 'Hitler Bad, Vandals Good' by the Vandals. I had to put it on after I found a five in my shorts doin' laundry and got "Money's Not An Issue" stuck in my head.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-25 11:51 pm (UTC)[He's in his damn element now, feeling better than he has in ages. He's lost so much, but he's found Ronstadt and in the man he's found not only a friend to fuck around with but a confidant. Someone worthy of secrets. Someone worthy of opening up a little. But even better than that? Someone worthy to get a little vulnerable with while they're tipsy and stupid, and to talk music to and to share stupid stories with. Friendships are best when they're layered and complex, after all.]
We'll go tomorrow! I'm still relatively new to this fine city, and I don't know all her secrets yet. [He groans.] Learned more about her than I wanted to know, but there's always a few new things to figure out. [He's not quite drunk enough to talk about Angela casually without some prodding. But he's close. And after some Chinese and maybe a visit to the nearest offie for some fun booze. Stuff easy to drink to keep the mood up. He might just give Ronstadt the story about how he was wall fucked by the city herself. Or, uh, her collective memory anyway.
He's not sure they have offies here, though. They have to, he's sure of it. But he's not sure enough to just assume.] Hey! You've got offies here, yeah? I'm low on ciggies and I want to drink more with you tonight. But easy drinking, you know? Fun stuff, not to be sad about what might have been, I wanna celebrate what is. But anyway! Yeah! What were we talking about? The Vandals! They're good. I like them a good deal. Haven't heard that particular album in so long though.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-05 10:27 pm (UTC)[he waggles a finger at Constantine, grinning. he's about to demand that he share it, when John blurts out a word he's never heard before.]
Offies? I don't know what the heck an offie is, man, but I know where we can hook you up with booze and cancer sticks, no problem. There're a couple stores between the subway and my place. Especially in Koreatown, I've noticed, they're real big on keeping convenience stores open as late as they can. We can get a bucket of fried chicken too. Gonna sound weird, but you haven't lived until you've had good gas station chicken.
[The subway station stairwells poke up out of the concrete at the end of the block, and Ronstadt glances around. From the look on his face, he's looking for something he's not finding, but he doesn't seem terribly bothered by it]
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Date: 2021-10-05 10:55 pm (UTC)[John glances around too, more than a little curious.] What are we missing?
no subject
Date: 2021-10-06 02:43 am (UTC)[he's pretty sure that John just described 7-11 and Circle K, but ... then again, maybe these 'offies' are more like actual liquor stores, the outlets that are just aisles and aisles of booze sectioned by type. either way, there are a fair share of convenience stores in L.A. that sell straight booze, too, and a one-stop shopping trip sounds sublime, all things considered. a convenience store is more likely to let them walk out the door with a few bottles in their current state, to boot. he's about to say something to that effect, when John notices him looking around]
We're not missing anything, per se. I'm actually kinda glad.
[he leads John down into the station, where a busker is making a pretty decent go at Subterranean Homesick Blues. appropriate, Ronstadt thinks with a little smile]
There's a ghost who hangs out around here a lot, goes by 'Kneeslapper'. I don't mind him, but ... he's definitely an acquired taste, and if you let him he'll talk your ear off. I'm not in the mood for that, not when I've got better company.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-06 02:51 am (UTC)Too bad he won't feel so hopeful sober.]
Is that so? [John tosses a buck into the busker's open case, before continuing on with Ronstadt.] Kneeslapper? Sounds dismal. The more airs they put on the worse they are usually. I'm guessing the humor appeals to very select audiences. [John preens like a peacock at being called better company. He's having the best night he's had in ages.]
no subject
Date: 2021-10-06 03:22 am (UTC)Dismal is about it, yeah. He was a stand-up comedian when he was alive. The kind with a catchphrase, even. Some of his stuff is actually funny, but ... I think most of the time he's just glad someone can see him.
[Ronstadt is beginning to think that possibly everything nasty about Side B can be traced to the root cause of loneliness, and how desperate some people or things can get in the pursuit of company or approval. But that sort of philosophical shit is for a different flavor of drunk, one he's not even close to tonight, not anymore. He stays a comfortable distance from the platform, hands tucked in his jean pockets, waiting for the train.]
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From:/shamelessly steals local used vinyl store
From:As you should!
From: