Friday, May 7, 2010

It's Only Natural That I Hate You (Part 3)

He thought we were leaving on Sunday to go back to the city, and normally that would be the case, but instead, as we were getting ready to order food, I said, “I just found out I have to be back in NY now, so I’m leaving tonight. I’m going back to the hotel, packing and leaving. If you don’t want to come, that’s fine.” Pissed, he said, “Obviously, I have to go with you.” I said, “No, you can stay and take the train back from here tomorrow.” I was hoping he might, but I knew it was a long shot. So on no food, after two shows, I’m driving back to the city, a four hour drive, with the biggest DB I’ve ever met. Is this my life? Really?

He got in the car wearing his pajamas. I said, "What are you wearing?" He said he was tired and would be more comfortable in his pajamas. I couldn’t believe it, but I started driving away from the hotel, as fast as

I could. I didn’t care if I got a ticket. I didn't care if we crashed. I just wanted to get home.

After an hour, he started to talk. He told me about the philosophy of naturalism, and that this is how he lives his life. Not only am I starving, but now I have someone trying to get me in their weird L.A. cult.

He said every answer to the universe can be found in nature, and if it’s not found in nature then, according to this prick, it’s wrong. Procreation is natural, so a man and woman is right, and being gay is wrong. Abortion is man-made and not found in nature, so it’s wrong. It was natural for women to take care of children; while it was natural for men to go out and earn money. Naturalism started sounding like some way to explain right wing ideas while using mother nature as the guise. I’m sure he also thought it was natural for him to be a jerk since he was the “big headliner,” and it was natural for me to do shit for him since I was the “lowly MC.” I wanted to kick him out of my moving car, and use the “natural” speed of the car, to run him over. Nature. It’s natural. Shut the fuck up.

Thankfully, we were almost back to Manhattan.

We both lived on the east side, but he lived further downtown. I was going to drop him off at his apartment, but there was an accident and traffic was backed up. I said, “I really hate to do this, but this is my exit, so you’re going to have to get out here.” He said, “You’re going to drop me off in my pajamas and just leave me in the street in the middle of the night?” I wanted to say, “Yea, and I’m going to enjoy it. I hate you and think you’re one of the biggest pricks I’ve ever met.” But instead I said, “Yea. It’s Manhattan, you’ll get a cab in a minute. Don’t worry, it’ll be okay.” He was pissed, but it felt good to give that chauvinistic, pro-life, homophobic, right-wing jerk-off the boot.

As I drove away, I looked back into my rearview mirror and saw a tall man, wearing flannel pajamas, holding a duffle bag, trying to hail a cab. He looked ridiculous. Maybe he’d had people take care of him his entire life, and that’s why he was such a baby. Maybe that’s why he needed a strict code to tell him what he thought was right and wrong, instead of being able to think for himself. For a second I almost felt bad for him, and I thought about going back. But then I remembered the pizza place next to my apartment was still open.

At 3 a.m., I thought about nature and what was natural. Doing a favor and trusting your manager; unnatural. Lying to your manager to get out of a

favor; natural. Being annoyed by a prima donna comic; natural. Putting up with his shit and taking his flack; unnatural. Either way, I’d never drive someone I didn’t already know to a gig ever again. Maybe there was something to this after all. Regardless, I ate some damn good pizza that night.

1 comment:

  1. You've got to love that DB got what was coming to him.