DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #17 - or just come, Cherry

⚠️ VERY BAD TASTE JOKES (hope noone gets offended). sexual practices (stay cryptic?) and mentions of drugs. ⚠️

October 6, 1992
it's more like when I pull the clutch
switch to first gear,
give throttle... crawl crawl crawl...
feet up, and off I ride,
ride with the wind !
فيكتوريا

It's the day before the girls and I leave for the road trip to catch up with Phellus in Chains, and, as my usual pre-bedtime tradition, I'm talking about my dumb daily adventures to the cryptic, mysterious, sassy ass drummer and standup comedian of the band. The thought that Inez is going to be there, too, and that I will have to face him before I try to mingle with Sean, freaks the living shit out of me. But I've tried to drink the intrusive thought away with a very homemade Gin Lemon and a few cigarettes. Phone glued to my ear, lounging almost naked around the kitchen under Chrissie's ever so disgusted stare, I'm making myself another Gin Lemon. Making myself another Gin Lemon as I take a ten-second break from telling crush about how my appointment with the mechanic went on about, earlier this afternoon. The girls will be road tripping in a van, or in a car, I don't know and I don't see why it should even interest me. I'll ride my Triumph all the way to California, side to side with them, 'cause I just can't resist the calling of the road. And considering that my bike is rusty, old and disastered, I brought it to the mechanic before bringing it on a considerably long journey. Stay safe, ride safe, Victoria. Bringing a bike to the mechanic before going on a road mission is like wearing a condom when you fuck a musician dude: mandatory.

'So ... I befriended the guy with a Harley-Davidson Dyna Glide...and we went for a ride together'. I resume my narration from where I've left it, more or less around the moment I told Sean that I'd laughed in the face of a super skinny dude who sneaked into the workshop on top of a Harley-Davidson Dyna Glide, and took a thorough look at my Triumph Bonneville on the bike examination table. He laughed back in my face, I insulted him a bit, he misunderstood me and thought I was flirting with him... and once our bikes were both checked and given a pass by the mechanic, we clicked our fists together and went on a ride together. He didn't try to grope me, 'cause you know... us bikers are real nice people. We just rode a few miles together, and I made it back home alive and well, no cock thrown my way whatsoever. Every motorcycle owner in this city, man or woman, has been on a ride with me. Except Layne with the Honda CBR900RR and Sean with the Honda CB750 and a unqualified Kawasaki . This is his subtle call to bring me on a ride the next time we catch up. Tomorrow, at around this time... but he doesn't know it yet.

'Dyna? That's my girlfriend's name'. He chimes in from the other side of the dial, and I almost spill my drink at his words. He has a girlfriend? And why doesn't this piece of information leave me entirely shocked? He is an amazing dude, charming inside and out, I am honestly not surprised at all to find out that someone's bagged him. But why the fuck is he having a good laugh at this very candid, impromptu declaration of his? He thinks that cheating on a poor girl is funny? It ain't. Not even if you play in a rock band and you've got hoards of chicks that would rip their hair off their scalp to even see the head of your peepee. Can't keep it in your pants? Be like Inez, don't get in a relationship with anyone. Treat women like they deserve to be treated. With brutal honesty... and respect.

I don't say a word, I just chug away the temptation to hang up the phone on him and go tell the tea to Chrissie, sitting on the lounge couch, half asleep in front of the television. I don't feel bad for myself... I mean, I haven't even fucked this man, and I've done my best not to romanticise him even if he keeps showering me with attentions, calls and subtle compliments. I feel bad for his girlfriend, that's it. Dear Dyna, not all girls are like put together and well behaved like this girl, Cherry. Some of them will go as far as hiding under your man's bed to have a piece of him... and I hope you smarten up, dump him and do yourself a favour. Truly. You deserve much better than a cheater, a sneaky ass and a liar.