This is not my beautiful house: met a stranger part IV
Posted by myg
Continued from Small crimes - met a stranger part III To read this series from the beginning, start with Met a stranger on a train. When you’re done with that, read Bodegaddiction. Then read Small crimes. Then come back here.
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The last thing I can remember seeing was that cash register at the Bodega. Then it all went blank.
I don’t know how long I was out of it. Hours? Days? It felt like a lifetime as the heavy stupor rolled off me like recovery from a near death experience. My head pounded like a bulldozer on broken concrete and I stunk so bad I made myself gag…twice.
My clothes? Gone. I was down to my boxers, but somehow wound up in someone else’s smelly socks and ripped up shirt. My money? Stolen, I guess. I was penniless, not even able to buy a demo hair. My inventory? Fucking wiped.
I came around a little, but still didn’t have my full faculties. I couldn’t remember full names of places I’d been, where exactly I was from. I wandered around, staggered is more like it, but came to see that somehow I’d ended up on the streets of Reforma, new Mexico City (SLURL). I imagine the scene was not far from how Andromeda Xi had once pictured it…shiny clean streets, fancy strangers tuxedos and sexy accents, and one dirty beat up dragged out wanderer, for balance and authenticity. But I hadn’t volunteered for this. And I wasn’t going to take it laying down in a cardboard box on the sidewalk.
Only in Mexico City can a gal look this haggard and still get hit on, I think.
I HOPE that’s the case, anyway. But believe it or not, even with me looking this grimy and this pissed off, some random dude gave me a “rose for a special lady” (yeah, you know the one) and asked me a ton of shit like where did I live, did I wanna go to the club, etc. I said, “Dude, look at me…” When he didn’t get the hint, I just gave him a blast of my foul sock chewing breath and he scampered off down the street.
For a moment I was left alone with this red beauty next to me, and a thought flashed in my throbbing skull.
Could I hot wire this ride and cruise my way out of Reforma for good? I was desperate to be sure, but was I ready to lead a life of crime? I mean, wasn’t politics bad enough?
continue reading at Bumped right into me.
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this is like the ” carmen santiago” story on tv, that could never ended.
btw…i think the ” st. anger ” look suits you very well, dear myg.
/me tries to think if he’s seen that car around Philly…
not likely burgess…well…maybe…
Oh, you own a secret weapon called “foul sock chewing breath” - good to know that, so I can wear my new freebie gas-mask out of the sewers of Slum City when you arrive at my radar-screen! a pity that kissing is impossible with this mask
I will talk with the designer, maybe she can build an endogenous version. ;-P
you take your very life into your hands then, my dear friend. you have *no* idea the power of sock breath!
Yeah, let me tell you, Myg’s sock breath is no ordinary anklet halitosis; it’s more like marathon tube sock thrown into a swamp halitosis.
But if that mask works, well… you’ll have a different kind of problem.
Cool Myg!!! yes I did that, slept many nights on the floor in the “rich” streets of Reforma in SL (Mexico City). Now they turned on a setting on the sim that makes imposible to rezz objects and recently they got lots of publicity on the principal local media channels… Makes me think that this sim is created by the same local media tv channels because there´s now a desk specially designed for a local journalist lady named Denisse Maërker who makes interviews to them broadcasting live in SL and this RL local TV channels at the same time, sometimes I stop there but people gets more annoying each day in that place. And the place is getting full of RL advertising.