The Left-Handed Smoker

Vol. V: Subtle [hostel]-ity


El Portal Hostel Albuquerque New Mexico October 2011
Lisa seemed to be settling into her new position at the front desk with noticeable ease, when I left to go back to our apartment this morning.
She never actually introduced us, but her friend Sergio, preferred only to look at her when speaking, and so... a proper introduction kind of felt unnecessary. In fact, it was almost as if I was at a funeral- staring at a distant/illegitimate family member's corpse; as if because I never knew this person, this pasty sarcophagus of secrets and imperative anecdotes, there was no real purpose for their life and mine to intersect, save for what I saw right before me- being a live witness to another dead person I never knew... nor cared to know. Our eyes were crossed in opposite directions and we didn’t speak regularly and there were much closer connections for us to bide our meaningful time. We found ourselves easily quiet in the presence of the other, easily involved with anything but the other… less than sufficient in any sort of future interaction.

in, and somewhat more firmly, Sergio DID NOT make eye contact with me.

Lisa does not get paid at her new job. Well, not regularly. She does have her own room, free of charge, but WE cannot let the staff find out (save for Sergio of course) that we are married, which is a ruse seamlessly played considering that neither of us have wedding bands, and no real concern for acquiring them.
We tell ourselves that it's because we don't believe in such traditions... that waiting until our wedding night in the Wyndham Airport Hotel of Tampa before we first had sex, was conventional enough for the eyes of God, and the state of Florida.
The truth... is that we can't afford them, or maybe we can and we just never think of it, because like I said, they're just not that important to us.
What IS important, you may ask?
Travel. Weed. Each other's company. Burritos. Books. Music. Restaurants. - not categorized in order of value -
Excerpt from a flyer found ripped in half and yellow at the Rapid Ride Bus Stop. Intersection of Yale & Central. Monday. October 2011. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Center presents:
A CALL TO ACTION. (dates and times indecipherable)
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Mermorial Center (MLKMC) Task Force on Social Justice for Public Safety...

It was around the time I really concentrated on the coined phrase street cred, and how it applied to my own urban experience, that Phil, or properly named Guillermo, his full name being Guillermo Silva Montes, entered the general scheme of things.
The Left-Handed Smoker continues...
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About Frankie Metro


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Frankie Metro lives in the bowels of the Route 66 Basement Studio, located in the farthest reaches of the Chihuahua desert. His first chapbook: The Anarchist's Blac Book of Poetry is now available via Crisis Chronicles Press: http://press.crisischronicles.com/2012/05/30/anarchistsblacbookfrankiemetro.aspx
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