"I'm spinning round the room in awe" ryan adams

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

so wounded

HAHAHAHHA I laughed my ass off reading this because it's like me every freaking day. Newspaper juggling and iPod toting while trying to balance my coffee. I just tried the napkin thing and it still doesn't work and by the time I get to 35th my hand is a sticky mess. And it's not like you can drink the damn coffee when you get it because it's too damn hot. And of course I totally relate to the CD/vinyl release. At leats when I worked at Rainbow I could have whatever I wanted on time or early. Oh wait, I can still do that now too. Thought I would share the below story with you.

Critically Wounded — East Village, Dec. 1, 2002
A speeding cab tapped its horn and pushed through a handful of people crossing the street at St. Marks and Ave. A."See that shit?""What?""That taxi. He almost ran me over completely!" Billy raised his middle finger to the back of the taxi, now drawing away. "Fuck you asshole!" "I know, these guys are nuts," said James.
Billy and James were flushed and full having just stepped out of 7A where they had brunch.
"I don't give a shit what their hurry is, that's just plain ridiculous," said Billy. "They should do something about the goddamn taxis; traffic here is fucking wounded.""I know dude," said James. "Sometimes I just want to put my boot right through the windshield."
They walked along St. Marks toward Cooper Square juggling their to-go coffees and newspapers, trying not to get entangled in the wires from their iPods that sprung from their Yak-Paks. Billy wore a mesh cap and reflective aviator glasses, but still he squinted. The volume on his iPod was too loud because he was listening to a mix he made for the bartender at Welcome To The Johnson's and he wanted to test it for walkability before giving it to her. But from one song to the next the volume varied widely.
"Goddamn!" Billy said, gripping his iPod. "Why the fuck didn't they make the iPod so the volume adjusts to the individual songs? That's so unbelievably wounded."
"I dunno," said James. "I think Apple was much cooler back in the Mac 128 days. Steve Jobs is a fucking fascist now anyway.""Yeah, Steve Jobs is like critically wounded dude," said Billy. "The guy's a megalomaniac, I mean, did you know the default date setting on all Macs is his birthday?""You've got to be kidding," said James."Swear to God," said Billy. "At least Bill Gates gives money to India for AIDS."
It was a blustery, clear day and a gale of wind whipped down the street.
"Fuck!" said James, spilling coffee down his front. "I fucking hate the wind! It's just so fucking frustrating! God, it is sooo wounded!""Yeah, why the hell do those fuckers fill up the to-go coffee cups so full?" said Billy. "Don't they understand that people get the coffee to-go so they can walk around with it?""I know, it's wounded dude," said James, sucking coffee from his fingers. "Fuck, now my hand's gunna be all sticky.""And then," said Billy. "To stop the coffee from going all over the place they put about a hundred napkins on top to soak it all up. Then you got a big handful of sticky, wet napkins. You can't even blow your nose in them; they're instantly ruined! Reeeal ecological, huh?""Christ! I thought I told him one sugar," said James wincing. "I thought that bodega was pretty good up until now.""No way dude," said Billy. "That place is totally wounded. You knew that. Remember when we got those turkey sandwiches after the Yeah Yeah Yeahs show and the bread was like totally stale?""It was that place?""Yeah, and their mayo tasted like somebody pissed in it.""Why didn't you say anything?""I didn't really think they could fuck up the coffee," said Billy. "You'd be surprised," said James. "And you can always tell the really bad bodegas because the lids to their coffee cups have these defective drinking flaps that don't stay down, they don't hook right, see?"James pushed back the plastic flap and it sprung up again. "Tell me that is not so fucking wounded?""It totally is," said Billy. "Then the coffee gets all cold before you can finish it."Billy threw his coffee into the street, then James did the same."There's always Starbucks," said James. "Yeah right. There's always ten Starbucks," said Billy. "I fucking hate Starbucks. Hey, let's hit Other Music, I wanna see if they have the new Donnas record.""Did you check Ear Wax yet?" said Billy. "I bet they have it cheaper. Plus, I personally think Other Music is wounded. It's totally commercial. I mean just look at it, it's right next to Tower Records.""Dude, you wanna talk wounded?" said James. "I already checked at Cock Wax and the guy was a total prick, he was all: 'Uhh, dude. It's not even, like, out yet. It's still on, like, order dude.' And I was like: 'Hello dude? I've got the fucking release date right here. Hello? I work at a fucking record label, dude. I think I know how this stuff works a little better than you.'""Did you really say that?""No, but I should have," said James. "Oh shit! I just remembered! I don't have any fucking money. My dad forgot to deposit the check. Man, maybe I should just go home, this day is already totally wounded.""Yeah, I think I ate too much anyway," said Billy. "I hate that, don't you? I wish they just had food pills because eating is such a pain in the ass.""Tell me about it," said James. "I think I'm gunna call my dad real quick."James pulled out his cell phone, then Billy pulled out his cell phone too."What the fuck?"James was staring off at the sky above the Cooper Union. "I'm not getting any reception! Fuck! Verizon is wounded dude. Jesus! It's so fucking frustrating!""Shut up dude!" said Billy, stopping to cover his receiver. "I'm on the phone!""Fuck you!" said James. "You're the one who's always bitching about shit! You're so fucking wounded, dude!""I'm wounded?" said Billy. "I can't believe you! You're the one who's fucking woooo —"
A speeding taxi hit James and Billy as they crossed Third Avenue.
"Talk to me! Talk to me! C'mon son!"
Billy was conscious, but wavering. The paramedic squatted over him, touching his cheek.
"So whatta we got?" asked a policeman.The paramedic stood and turned to him: "Looks like we got two: Critically Wounded."