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Monday, April 29, 2013

8 Balls and the House on Dana Part 6


The cockroaches become more abundant and bolder every day. I am taking a shower and there are six of them on the wall, completely ignoring the spray of water from the shower head, they run when I go to swat them but quickly return and bring two more with them. Looking around the bathroom I can see several cockroaches running along the fixture that is holding up the shower curtain directly above me, and another group has formed on the ceiling. 

I am afraid to kill them, we are afraid that they are waiting to just take over the apartment and kill us. They are everywhere lately; we have found them in the fridge, in the stove and in our beds. We are afraid to kill them with our hands and we joke that there must be a giant cockroach king hanging out in the basement, sending his minions to our house to do his bidding. Kim is no help and everyday returns with cockroach facts. “Did you know that a cockroach can walk in your ear while you are sleeping and live in your brain?” She goes to bed with cotton in her ears.

Kim and I are constantly being asked by our downstairs neighbor Ingrid, if we will babysit her kids. Ingrid is twenty four and already has three kids. The oldest is kid is five and the youngest is two. Every time we see the children they are covered in filth, either in their own or filth of their making. Their hands are always sticky with something grape colored.  Two of them are in diapers, and the oldest one has a magic marker line that has been on his face for at least two weeks now. Every time we get home, they are playing on the sidewalk in dirty clothes and the two wearing diapers have filled them to capacity. The children will run to us and touch us with their sticky hands. The smells that cling to them are just as overwhelming. The children never seem bathed, there is always dried snot under their noses and the corners of their eyes are filled with yellow puss that cakes on their eyelids. Their eyes are almost glued closed. I point this out to Ingrid who sits on the top step smoking a cigarette. “It’s gross right?” she says exhaling smoke from her mouth as she shoos the baby to get away from her.

I take to carrying a wet paper towel with me so I can wipe them down whenever they get close. They remind me of the children you see in those Save the Children commercials, except the flies have been replaced with cock roaches.

Ingrid on the other hand is glamorous, clean and extravagantly dressed. She stands 5’6 with a Barbie doll figure, big doe eyes and bleached blonde hair. She wears glasses but refuses to wear them because she thinks they make her look “too smart, to get a husband.”Ingrid tells us that she is legally blind without them. Ingrid has also never had a husband and believes that all the children have different fathers.

Today she is in a foul mood. Ingrid tells us that “someone in the neighborhood keeps calling child services on her and when she finds out who it is “heads are going to roll.” I know that when it’s not me calling child services, its Kim, Jackie, Billy or Michael; Kim and I look at each other and decide not to ever tell her.

We are about to go inside our apartment, when Ingrid asks Kim and me, if we can babysit tonight. Kim and I try to come up with every excuse not to, but our cable has been shut off due to lack of payment and Ingrid knows it. She reminds us that not only does she have cable, but more importantly she has MTV.

MTV is relatively new and plays the same six videos all day, but we watch them as if we have never seen them before. Ingrid lures us into babysitting with MTV, Cigarettes and Beer. Kim and I agree to watch the kids later that night and plan on coming down at 7pm.
Ingrid jumps, claps her hands ecstatically and runs inside, leaving her three dirty kids staring at us. The youngest has a permanent runny nose that he walks over and wipes on my pant leg. Kim gags.
At 7pm, Kim and I make our way down to Ingrid’s house and ring the bell. One of the kids, the oldest is naked when he answers the door. “Mommy is not here,” he says wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Kim and I push our way through the door and the smell hits us like a frying pan to the head.

The house is dimly lit and smells like rot, death, poop and disease, Kim and I make gagging noises as we cover or mouths and noses with our hands. Everywhere you look the house is crawling with cockroaches; there are literally seas of them. Somewhere in the house we can hear that the baby is crying.

As we start to walk through the house we notice that every room has writing on the walls but it doesn’t go any higher than kid height. There is a bedroom to the right that has one dirty mattress on the floor that is the bed for two of the kids and a busted crib that has missing slots. Sitting in the crib in his own excrement is the baby. He has wiped the poop in his hair and on the wall and when he sees us, his little hands reach out to be picked up.

To be continued…..

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Monday, April 22, 2013

8 Balls and the House on Dana Part 5


Kim’s Mother and Stepfather live one town away from us and we visit them pretty often. This afternoon Kim’s cousin is getting married and we have to get going if we are going to make it on time. 

Currently Kim’s on the phone with her mother. The phone sits in the dining room but the cord is stretched as far as it can go. Kim is walking around the house, cigarette dangling out of the side of her mouth packing an overnight case.

Kim is a bridesmaid at her cousins wedding and the dress that Kim is supposed to be wearing is still on the hanger on the back of the bedroom door. I can hear Kim’s conversation with her mother about how hideous the dress is, and about how much she hates it.

The dress is a light violet, satin, floor length, sleeveless dress that was chosen to make everyone at the wedding focus on the bride. I agree with Kim, the dress is hideous but what‘s worse are the long white opera gloves that are supposed to be worn with it. I think that the bride really wanted the bridesmaids to just create a wall of Pink behind her.

Kim, standing at four feet something, looks like she is wearing a Barbie Dream Tent and the colors are right out of a My Pretty Pony cartoon. I am going with her but I am not part of the wedding party, I am Kim’s date. I bought a long black tail coat for today, it goes with my black pants, black jacket and black wrap around glasses. I have my hair Queen Helened to Heaven with just a blond strip hanging down over my eyes in homage to Duran Duran. At the last moment Kim’s cousin called Kim's Mother and requested that I don’t wear my tail coat because the groom plans on wearing one that he bought at the last minute. Kim and I agree that the Bride and Groom are unbelievably selfish. I have searched the house for another jacket that I can wear. Michael found a blue sports jacket hanging in his closet but he doesn't remember where he got it from. 

The coat sleeves are way too short for me and my arms hang a little below the cuff. I look ridiculous. Kim’s Mom suggests that maybe her husband has a nice camel colored jacket I can wear. The reason we are going to the wedding is to get free food and booze, the celebration of love is incidental to the trip. I no longer want to go and try to come up with an excuse, so I don’t have too.

It’s useless to try to get out of it and an hour later we are Kim’s Mothers house with our first drink in our hands. We have snuck it because Kim wanted to calm her nerves and Kim’s mother is a drink counter. Kim is not allowed to smoke in the house and we run outside every five minutes to smoke another one. Kim’s’ Mother is very sweet but is making Kim crazy. Every moment Kim’s Mom gets within five feet of her, she tsks and asks Kim “Whatever happened to my sweet girl?” By the time Kim and I get in the car with her parents, we have a strong buzz going on. We also have more liquor with us in a flask that we are carrying.

When we get to the wedding Kim finds the rest of the bridal party and runs off with them. I sit with Kim’s parents who ask me “When I am going to marry Kim?” Kim has told them a million times that I am gay but her parents think that I will change when I meet the right girl. Small talk with Kim’s Mom goes on about the benefits of marrying Kim. I just nod my head at the right times.

The wedding goes off without a hitch. Kim looks both beautiful and ridiculous in her Bridesmaid dress. Truth be told, all the bridesmaids look beautiful but ridiculous. There is a cocktail hour that starts right after the wedding and Kim and I move in to the reception to sit at a table. We have already had several cocktails from our flask by the time cocktail hour arrives. Kim and I choose screwdrivers. As I reach for the drinks the waiter brings us, I knock both of them off the tray and down the front of Kim’s dress. The Purple dress is unforgiving to the orange juice and vodka combination. In an hour the dress has dried but is now sticking straight out. It also features a giant stain but Kim and I could care less. We get poured back into the car by Kim’s Mother and driven home.

To be continued……


Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.


Monday, April 15, 2013

8 Balls and the House on Dana Part 4


The after hour party starts at the house on Dana around 4 am, shortly after everyone gets out of work. The parties go on until the sun comes up or until everyone is crashed out on the floor. Everyone left at 8 Balls when they call last call is invited to come over by Jackie and everyone tends to show up. So it’s 4 am and a crowd of drunks take over the living room.

Kim and I, constantly sneak away from the party and head into the bedroom to sleep. Most of the time we lay on the bed in the dark cracking each other up, until one of us falls asleep. Kim believes in locking the bedroom door, “You never know if one of those people out there is a crazy lunatic with a knife,” Kim   says sitting up quickly, pressing her fingers to her mouth. Since we sleep in a bed on the floor, Kim   wastes no time, she jumps up in the dark room and runs across the bed to the door, locking it as quickly as possible. We lay there fully awake contemplating what we would do if we found everyone slaughtered the next morning when we get up.

The next morning, Kim has awoken before me, gotten herself a cup of coffee and has positioned herself at one end of the couch. At the other end of the couch sits a young guy, fully dressed watching the television with a blank stare.

Kim is sipping her coffee with her eyes scanning the ceiling when I walk in. “Good Morning,” I say to Kim as I go shuffling into the living room, my coffee in one hand my cigarette already burning in the other hand. “Sup?” says the guy on the couch, tilting his chin in my direction before he goes back to watching television. Kim’s eyes briefly meet mine and I mouth the words “Who’s he?” Kim shrugs and goes back to intently watching the ceiling. “What are you doing?” I say glancing up to the ceiling as well. “I am watching the cockroaches race each other on the ceiling.” Kim says and takes a drag off her cigarette. “I am trying to make them fall off by using my mind control,” Kim squeezes her eyes with all her might. “How’s that going?” I ask. “Not working so good yet.” Kim pauses, taking a sip of her coffee and flicking her ashes into the ashtray.

I sit down on the couch next to her and move her over with my butt. We are squished at one end while that guy sits at the other end of the couch with plenty of room. We don’t know him so we don’t want to get close. I reach back and pull my tail out of the top of my t-shirt. I take the rubber band off the bottom and unbraid it. Well, it’s called a rat tail and is sort of like a mullet except it is a strip of hair from the base of the head that forms a pony tail, which gets braided. Tom Bailey of The Thompson Twins sports one and so then, do I.

I loosen the braid and run my fingers through it. It is coarse and brittle due to the fact that I dye it all the time. Kim reaches over and pushes my shoulder so I can sit with my back to her. She then begins to run her fingers through my tail, parting it into three different strips so she can braid them for me.

“Hey, I love to braid!” yells the guy on the couch making both Kim and me jump. He begins to slide down the couch towards me and moves Kim out of the way with his butt. Kim forced to stand, crosses to sit on the other side of me. The guy then pulls me to the floor to sit in front of him. He grabs the back of my hair and begins to pull on it splitting it into three strips to braid. Kim and I say very little, we assume that this must be someone’s friend who slept over on the couch.

He quickly makes a braid and puts a rubber band at the base. “Hi, I’m Geoff and this is Kim.” I say turning to him over my shoulder. “I’m Jim,” he says moving my head back, so he can finish the braid. Jim offers nothing else to us, no explanation as to why he’s here or why he’s here. Kim offers him coffee, so I jump up and follow her into the kitchen.

Jim will proceed to spend the next three days sitting on our couch, drinking coffee and every now and then helping himself to meals that he finds in the fridge. On the third night Jackie walks into the kitchen and stops in front of me and Kim while we are eating dinner. Jackie pulls out a chair, sits on it and places his elbows on the table. Leaning in he whispers, “You’re friend is eating us out of house and home!” Then he motions to the living room with his hand. “Our friend?” Kim responds, her eyes getting as big as saucers. “He’s your crazy friend,” Kim says.

After several verbal back and forth’s with Jackie that include us sneaking peeks around the corner and knocking on roommates doors for a mandatory “family meeting” that we realize that no one knows Jim and that he just walked in with the crowd three days ago just for the party.

Jackie saunters out of the kitchen while the rest of us hide around the corner in the kitchen. Jackie stops at the couch in front of Jim and reaches down to pick up a magazine.  “Hi, Jim how are you?”Jackie asks nonchalantly thumbing through the magazine.  “Good, how are you!” Jim asks trying to look around Jackie’s legs so he doesn’t miss anything on the television. Jackie slides next to Jim on the couch. “Jim who do you know in this house?” Jackie asks and begins to fan himself with the magazine.“Well I got to know everyone,” Jim says leaning on the arm of the couch. “Who did you come with?” says Jackie as he leans in front of Jim’s line of vision, so that he will have to meet Jackie’s eyes. “Oh, I just walked in with everyone else from the bar.” “You did?” Jackie says holding up one finger. “Stay here I will be right back.” With that said Jackie walks back into the kitchen, leaving Jim to watch the television.

To be continued……


Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Monday, April 8, 2013

8 Balls and the House on Dana Part 3


The front room on Dana Ave is sparsely furnished. It has a couple of couches, a coffee table and a giant DJ Stereo Deck. Kim tells me that Jackie is learning to be a DJ in the hopes that someday he can stop bartending and find another career as a DJ.

I have yet to see Jackie use it, him and Billy sleep all day and wake up an hour before they need to be at the club but Kim and I spin records all day and work on our blends. We spend hours and learn that the 12 inch of The Dominatrix Sleeps Tonight fits well into Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s Relax. Truth be told, we mix everything with Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s Relax. Another favorite is Prince and Morris Day; they are played around the clock. Lately if I leave the house with Kim, I carry a Boom Box that plays Jungle Love so loud you can hear me coming.

Kim and I have now adopted the full on Punk Look. This look includes shaving the sides of our heads; dying strips of our hair blonde and making it stand straight up with Queen Helene Styling Gel. We create the craziest clothing that is held together with safety pins and bandanas. I wear wrap around black glasses and fingerless gloves, day and night. We smoke cigarette after cigarette and snarl at people who look at us funny.

Kim goes to see The Dead Kennedys and The Butthole Surfers live; there she discovers the joys of slam dancing and stage diving. I go with her once but ten minutes later a drunken skinhead with a serious head wound spits blood on me. I don’t need anything else to happen, I’m out of there. I let her have that joy for herself.

Kim drinks beer out of a paper bag and we smoke a ton of weed. We go to work where we sneak around the corner on our breaks to smoke more cigarettes and more weed. We spend the days mumbly and incoherent most of the time.

Kim and I are fascinated by the lives of Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen and stay up late at night watching the 700 Club. We think we are bad ass but get our feelings hurt when that daily passing car, screams “Freaks!” out the window at us.

We begin to drink a lot and fight. Then we start waking up around noon to buy more cigarettes.

To be continued……….


Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Monday, April 1, 2013

8 Balls and the House on Dana Part 2


The music at The 8Ball Bar and Lounge is a little more cutting edge then the music at most of the other Albany bars. The Playhouse, which is five blocks away on Central Avenue, tends to play old disco and caters to a much older crowd. There in the back bar you will dance to the Disco Version of Memory and lots of Donna Summer.

Grace Jones, The Thompson Twins and Frankie Goes to Hollywood are in heavy rotation at the 8 Ball and anything goes. Feel like lying on the floor while the music plays, just so you can look at the lights? Go right ahead. Feel like dancing by yourself or partner with the wall? Be my guest.

I do notice that even though the crowd sways to a younger vibe the club is a little segregated. Near the DJ Booth are a series of benches referred to as the bleachers. This is where 90% of the African American clientele likes to hang out. There seems to be a plethora of African American Drag Queens who migrate to the club. Maybe they are drawn in to the club by the goddess at the door Miss Kenny? But this is where I meet some of my first mentors. Drag Queens tend to be quick on their feet when it comes to verbal comebacks and cutting someone down to size is a skill. They take no shit and they don’t put up with it either. What is so fascinating to me is how they can cut someone down and you laugh at what they are saying. It is a learned defense mechanism and I pay close attention. 

The leader of this pack of Drag Queens is a skinny white boy who skips putting on his deodorant when he heads out to the club. His nickname according to Kim is “Stinky.” That’s funny that I would someday meet a hustler with the same nickname. His real name is John but the Drag Queens refer to him as Chaka. I’m assuming that’s derived from the singer Chaka Kahn, but I never ask.

I approach Chaka to ask for a light, really I am there to get to know the various queens and hang out with him. Chaka is about 5’10, bald headed and refers to himself as the “mother of these children”. Kim warns me before I go over to this group that they will rob me blind. “Always have one eye on your pocket,” Kim whispers a warning into my ear. Kim has no love for them and tells me that they steal bar tips all the time. As I approach Chaka, Kim wanders away and returns to her job cleaning ashtrays, picking up empty beer bottles and finished cocktails.

Tonight, there are five drag queens hanging out with Chaka smoking cigarettes and drinking. They turn the back of the club into their own personal runway and “walk” for each other. As I approach several of the Drag Queens stop what they are doing and watch me. ‘Hi, I say with a little wave. My name is Geoff.

Chaka’s back is to me and he does a slow turn around to meet me. His eyes immediately look me up and down; he is calculating a way to cut me down if he has to. “What brings you to the dark side of the moon?” he asks extending the back of his hand. I believe that he actually wants me to kiss it but I grab it and shake it vigorously.

I tell them my story and Chaka motions me to sit with him. The drag queens surround me and listen intently. By the end of the night they have smoked all of my cigarettes and my wallet is empty from buying them drinks.

to be continued…..


Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.


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