 |
 |
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
 |
Friends of
The Brain |
 |
Warning: include(../x3top3/output/toplist.html) [function.include]: failed to open stream: No such file or directory in /var/www/redbrain.net/macchio/7-13-01.php3 on line 184
Warning: include(../x3top3/output/toplist.html) [function.include]: failed to open stream: No such file or directory in /var/www/redbrain.net/macchio/7-13-01.php3 on line 184
Warning: include() [function.include]: Failed opening '../x3top3/output/toplist.html' for inclusion (include_path='.:/usr/share/php:/usr/share/pear') in /var/www/redbrain.net/macchio/7-13-01.php3 on line 184
|
 |
 |
 |
|
|
|
 |
 |
Week 43: Colors
East Los Angeles, CA
July 2
8:27 AM: Bandanarama
Ralph is standing in front of the mirror staring at himself. He is nude. The song "Venus" blares in the background. I watch as a bead of sweat travels from his scalp, down the back of his neck,
the length of his spine, over the gentle slope of his mocha buttocks, and onto his curved and muscular thighs and calves. The bead of sweat breaks, and explodes on the carpet, waking me from
the trance I have been in for the past 30 minutes. He walks over to his end table and grabs a bag with the name "Bandana on the Run" printed on it.
From it he takes a handful of multi-colored bandanas: yellow, red, blue, purple. He begins to try them on one at a time, each time saying "I'd fuck me"
in a guttural voice while doing a full push-behind standing with his arms outspread. At this pont I fall off of the lattice. |
10:04 AM: A Slave to Fashion, or "Puttin' on the Riznitz"
He is shopping, this time at a store called Devaroe's, which specializes in hip-hop and urban
active wear. He emerges from a dressing room wearing a lime green FUBU mesh tank with a flannel shirt over it, the top button buttoned, a pair of
X-Large shorts that hang down halfway between his knee and ankle, and a hairnet. I am not sure if I should laugh or cry. After purchasing more than
$500 worth of merchandise from Devaroe's, he emerges into the sunlight hungry. I follow him to Burger King, where he places an order for a
"Woppa yo, no sauce an' a little extra sumpin sumpin, youknowwhatI'msayin'?". While he orders, he appears to flail around wildly, moving his
arms and hands in an erratic manner. After a few minutes I realize that he is trying to replicate gang symbols, however he ends up looking like
a retarded midget trying to do shadow puppets. The crowd at BK immediately begin throwing condiments and shredded lettuce at him. |
|
1:17 PM: "Hey, isn't that Paul Rodriguez sucking some guy's dick for a $5 rock?"
|
After escaping
The Home of the Whopper, Mr. Macchio decides to take a journey over to one of the seedier parts of town,
East L.A. I have yet to figure out what his plan is, and am beginning to get very intrigued. And frightnened. I tail him to an abandoned crack house on West Paloma
Blvd., where he enters as I wait nervously outside. An hour goes by, then two. It is 95 degrees out today, and I am hiding under an El Camino sweating profusely.
Eventually, Macchio emerges. He seems slightly nervous, but unhurt. I can hear shouting coming from the building; mostly taunts directed at Macchio.
He hurries to his LeCar and speeds off.
|
 | |
4:57 PM: It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad Macchio
Having lost him for a short while, I grab a bite to eat and pick up the trail at Chuck E. Cheese's, where Ralph
is stealing plastic balls out of the Kiddieland Fun Pool. At this point asking myself why is a pointless venture, so I am content
to just follow. Next stop: Kinko's. Kinko's? Why? I find out when I spy him run from the building, carrying about five bundles of resume paper and
a large banner that reads "Happy 65th Grandpa, We Love You" which trails behind him as several Kinko's employees scream at him
to come back. The LeCar does its job, and he is soon far, far away. I follow, however, and we arrive at the Hooters on 24th Street.
This is a good time to break up the rhythm, so I go in. I take a table within eyesight of Ralph's and order some wings. At first he
seems rather subdued, ordering a salad and ginger ale. When the waitress comes to check on him, however, everything goes haywire. Upon reaching the table, the waitress gets one word out of her
mouth before Ralph reaches out and grabs the front of her shirt, tearing it off of her body in one motion while shouting
"This one's for Don Louiso!". He runs out at top speed, and I am so stunned I almost lose him in the parking lot. |
|
6:39 PM: Ritual De Lo Habitual
Upon catching up with him, I trail Ralph to the abandoned building from earlier in the day. |
 |
I again decide to remain outside, but decide to spy through a window which is not completely covered in spray paint.
There are three men inside, two Hispanic and one black. They are reclining on battered couches watching porn. When Macchio enters
they immediately begin berating him, calling him names and throwing spinach dip at him. He gingerly places the items he has
procured throughout the day on the table in front of them and looks around tentatively, waiting for a reaction.
The largest one, who is seated to Macchio's left and is called Big Boi, begins screaming at the top of his lungs about
his grandfather and how the banner was too small. The leader, Don Louiso, immediately tears into Macchio about the plastic balls:
"These are obviously from Showbizz Pizza," he shouts, "anyone can tell that you sinking pile of guano!" Macchio begins to protest, then slowly realizes
what I already have: that it was all a joke. Macchio turns to leave, heartbroken and humiliated.
"Don't forget your balls, heffe!" shouts Don Louiso. "And I was lying: Zapped sucked!" | |
10:03 PM: He must have forgotten his balls
Back at Casa del Macchio. He has
not taken this gang rejection lightly, and is curled up in bed watching Shirley Temple movies and eating Bon Bons. Crying. I'm
not exactly sure what possessed him to attempt to join a gang, and I guess I'll never know, since the restraining order
does not allow for verbal communication between him and I. I shimmy down the drainpipe and slip away, undetected.
Next Week: "As seen on TV": Macchio as infomercial pitchman |
|
|
|
