Chippers is Coming!

My best friend is coming to visit pretty soon.

She's is a total city whore and I live in olden-times, Tucson Arizona. Can you hear that? It’s the sound of the desert wind blowing across an empty field of creosote. If you listen closely, you might hear a hawk, or even more clichéd, a pack of coyotes.
The point is that I live in the relative country, even though to me, Tucson is a fucking metropolis, an epicenter of culture.
Hey – I’m from Carbondale.
She’s from Springfield and there’s just enough difference to matter.

While I am tending to the animals and maybe doing something exciting like grilling cheeseburgers, she will be out and about in Chicago, her home of homes.

I am sure that her weekend looks something like this:
Hmmmm. I have 14 parties to pick from this evening and I don’t know. Which one should I go to? I know! I'll call Sarah and ask her opinion!

ring ring
SarahStar! I have 14 parties to go to! I can make every single one of them because I am not human... I am made of a very special, highly concentrated, human-like material. It allows me to warp time and metabolize alcohol so that I can drink with impunity at all 14 parties and not have a single hair out of place or a single spill on my True Religion jeans.
Whore, I think to myself. "Chelsea, the only True Religion is Jesus, so I hope you gave thanks when you got those jeans."
Sarah? Are you drunk? I swear I heard you just say that Jesus is the only True Religion. You know you're Jewish, right? Honey?
"What about overalls? They are always cute, and they don't offend anyone with their name or with how they are cut really lo..."

What did you take? Go to your refridgerator, get 2 tablespoons of milk and one of mustard, drink it, and throw up. You are clearly over-dosing.

"But overalls go good with a turtleneck, Chelsea!"
Sarah. I think you need to go to the ER. You don't sound right. In fact, you sound possessed, so if you're going to be all 'god', make sure you tell the nurse to call a priest and get you exorcised. I'm coming out there. Things have been headed in this direction for far too long now.
My heart skips a beat here. Shit. I am going to have to pretend that I don't pretend to be a little farm-girl, with all the animals and the flannel and the home-made bonnet that keeps the Arizona sun off of my neck while I am picking the last of the pomegranates and whittling a tiny squirrel that will sit outside my door of heavy blankets on my homestead.
(And no... I can't explain this imagery. It's like I gave up the Little House game too late and frontiering fantasies already owned my soul. My soul. Who wears Betsey Johnson and who doesn't have a pair of jeans that rises higher than Ultra Low)
“So you’re coming to visit in January?” My voice is small, almost squeaking. WHAT WILL WE DO?

Somehow, I am thinking that going to my friend’s house and learning to make tamales from scratch while we watch Telemundo and talk about the Old World isn’t going to be ‘entertaining’ for Chelsea.

Whatever you want honey! We’ll go shopping and we’ll go out to eat! Everybody goes to Tucson in January!
“Everyone over age 65! We can’t get a decent meal if it’s after 7:30! And the shopping? Are you kidding me? If you want to go to Buffalo or fucking ROSS ‘Cross Dress for Less’ but shopping? There’s no shopping in the Old Pueblo unless you are shopping for a goddamn horse and some chickens! Everybody has chickens! What the hell with the chickens! I can’t even eat chicken anymore unless it is cut in strips and fried beyond recognition! Jesus Mitchell Christ, woman, are you CRAZY? Have you LOST your MIND? If you think there is anything to DO in this town, then surely it is time for you to be sat down at the world wide web with a big fat dose of Reality Tea and then you can surf the ‘Net and look up Tucson Arizona. Look it up! There’s ONE BAR! And it’s a BIKER BAR…..
Well, yes it’s fun
Yeah, I know, I totally just want to hang out with you, too.
You do? You have jeans that you don’t wear anymore for me?
You’re my best friend Chippers!
I love you, too! Have fun tonight!
Hey Chelsea?
Thanks for snapping me out of my day-dreaming. I’m about as much a farm girl as you are a hippy.”
I'm just happy that I can snap you out this, Sarah. And NEVER say my name in the same sentence as the word 'hippy'.

arizonasarah at 9:59 a.m.

previous | next