"Tucson Tales" Part 2.

Tucson Tales part 2


So I was officially in Tucson. Now what?

I just drove almost 15 hours, about 900 miles, to be with the girl I had fallen in love with. Originally she said that she would move to San Francisco to be with me. But after finding out that she paid only $500 for a garden townhouse, while I was stuck in an ex-girlfriend's dingy apartment, along with a trail of failed relationships, countless jobs, the loss of three cars, a bad drug habit and not much to show for the twelve years that I had lived there, I quickly decided it was time for a change. A big one.

Now, you have to understand, I've only been through (not even really in) Tucson twice in my life. Once as a kid with my mom and once on my way to Austin for SXSW. To me, Tucson was a dusty Arizona border town with outlaws and cowboys and banditos and stuff like that. The weeks proceeding my big move, I did a lot of research on the internet about the town. Or city really.

First off, it had like a population of a million, where my fair hamlet of San Francisco had maybe a few hundred thousand. I mean it was also three times the size of SF so, there you go. It had a major university, U of A, and what seemed like a thriving art community. There all sorts of fun things to do in Tucson. Who knew? Not me. So I was actually getting pretty excited about the move, outside of being with She-Ra of course.

Luckily I had a little bit of cash saved up. Not much though. Essentially that last month in SF I was basically unemployed. My boss at the bar hated me and I hated him. So when word got out that I might be moving to Tucson, he just plain took me off the schedule. I mean, it was something like “Well, maybe I'll just move to Arizona to be with that girl. I don't know,” or whatever to a co-worker right after I met She-Ra, which was something I was not considering at all. But then when I got “fired” and realized that she paid next to nothing for a garden townhome, I quickly changed my mind and made the decision to finally move out of California.

So, outside of not having a paycheck or tips coming in, I had to pay an extra month's rent (because I moved out early and without much notice), pay for the rental car, gas, food, etc, so when I arrived in Tucson I had like a few hundred bucks. Good thing Tucson has cheap eats and cheap beer, otherwise I would have been screwed.

Now, I've lived with girls before, but it was nothing like this. I had left my home state and everything behind in it to be with She-Ra. It was official. Things would have to work out between us or I'd be back on some Greyhound bus and sleep on my dad's floor at their place in Palm Springs. Good thing we actually got to know one another over the phone and email (along with her week long visit, which sealed the deal) so I was pretty confident about it working out.

Which, it did.

Her place was pretty small but it was awesome. The house has a decent sized garden that rests in between the living room and bedroom and a huge desert tree growing in the center of it. She also had a cat, Alice, which was fine because I've been a cat owner before. But, she also had a dog, which is something I had very little experience with. His name is Deacon (yes named after Brad Doriff's character in 'Blade'...so nerdy) and he is a beautiful Siberian husky, with reddish coloring and slate blue eyes. Only thing is, much like other pretty male models, he's kinda dumb and privy to escaping and getting lost. So there were moments when She-Ra and I were having, um, “fun” and he thought that we were fighting so instead of defending her he'd just move the gate a bit and take off. I cant tell you how many times we went looking for him in our jammers.

After being in Tucson for a bit while looking for work (which was tough because I really didn't want to bartend or serve again but this place is pretty much a service industry city) I started to get sick. I broke out in cold sweats and would shiver a lot, even though it was warm outside. So to help with my illness I started to watch She-Ra's “Sex and the City” DVDs to pass the time while I was on her couch. Turns out I really got into it, but I was still curious about my odd flu.

“You're detoxing,” She-Ra said. “I saw that bag of blow back at your apartment. You obviously had a serious problem and now its coming out. Just take it easy till you feel better.”

Detoxing? Me? But I... But... But...

Oh man, it was true. I did have quite the cocaine dependency back in San Francisco. It was EVERYWHERE! The bar where I worked, the club where I DJ'd, the radio station, friends had it, girls did it. Not to mention I was totally depressed and really confused about what I was doing back in SF. So, bingo!, that first night I did it I knew I was hooked. A year later I'm on She-Ra's couch shaking and nauseous. Good thing I had Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda to guide me through it. By the time the last episode was finishing up, when Bigs texted Carrie and it read John (yes, I wept...shut up I was in a vulnerable state) I was pretty much over the detoxing. It was then and there I decided that drugs were just not for me. I freaked out on extacy, I hated the way weed made me just tired, hungry and paranoid, I was terrified to do acid (hey, I already hallucinate on my own and the voices in my head would be deafening) and I obviously like the stimulants a bit too much. I'll just stick to drinking. It's legal, I'm good at it and Tucson was definitely a beer and whiskey town.

Once that was taken care of, it was time to look for a job. Now, here was my problem at the time. I sort of had that big fish/little pond attitude thing going on. I mean, hey, I'm from California man. I grew up in LA. I lived in San Francisco where I was a music journalist and DJ. I've done all kind of cool stuff. What am I saying here? I am the cool stuff. I'm gonna take Tucson by storm!

Yeah, no. Didn't happen.

I sent resumes to every decent rock radio station, to the local newspapers, the weekly free alternative press, even some local theaters and TV stations. Nothing. I managed to land an audition at a regional theater, the Beowulf, but I hadn't acted in years and had nothing prepared. A radio station, which was located way out in the boonies, offered me like $7 an hour to switch music from 2am to 8am. That wouldn't work. Nothing seemed to be panning out. I was getting pretty desperate.

Then, She-Ra made an odd but understandable suggestion.

“Why don't you try some of the local strip clubs,” she asked. “It's probably the only way you can get paid as a DJ here and I think Curves is hiring.”

Me? A strip club DJ? Are you kidding? I HATE strip clubs. My history with those things are not the best. I'm not good at just sitting there and letting some hot girl with big boobs writhe on my pants. When the mojo kicks in, I have to do something about it. One time I ran screaming from a high end “gentleman's club” after some friends bought me a private room dance with this one dancer that had boobs the size of bowling balls. When she unlatched her top and those things popped out, my body turned into a mercury thermometer that exploded from the heat and I had to get out. I ran all the way down Broadway, up Columbus, back into the apartment at Union and jumped into the shower. So there was no way I could work around that.

But, I was broke and hating living off She-Ra, who was a bartender at a popular bar restaurant just a few blocks up from our place. So I applied at the club, got an interview and started training the next night.

Curves is a fairly upscale strip club and luckily from the DJ booth you really cant see that much. The dancers just look like silhouettes and you're so far back and behind a tinted window that really it kind of just resembled a dance club. But...with scantily clad girls walking around and into the DJ booth. Which, I was okay with.

See, you have to understand where She-Ra was coming from with suggesting that I DJ at Curves. She knew I wasn't “into” the whole strip club thing and our relationship was so strong, even though it was fairly new, that really she just wanted me to make some money at some skills I have and keep looking for work as I get paid. I didn't want to do it. I just...kinda had to. It was my only option at the time.

When I arrived at Curves on a slow night, I was taken into the DJ booth by the club's manager, some slick Latino looking guy who probably listened to a lot of techno music and had spinning rims on his flashy car. The DJ I was training under seemed relieved when he met me. He was a tall, thin, young looking guy with a fedora hat and a shiny shirt with a skinny black tie. “Dude I hope it works out with you,” he said over the loud booming bump-bump music. “I've been pulling like ten, maybe twelve hour shifts with only like one day off. We need you here man.”

That first night I just observed, helped him get CDs from their massive, and quite dusty, shelves, took requests from some dancers and stuff like that. It was actually kind of fun. Weird, but something that I could possibly do and get some good stories out of while I look for more, uh, suitable and less skeezy work.

The second night though, I knew I had made a mistake. Maybe I hadn't noticed it before but some of the dancers were handing fedora hatted DJ dude little bags of white powder. I began to sweat when I saw this and knew it would be almost impossible for me to resist if I was on my 7th hour DJing and needed a little “pick me up” to keep going. I mean, I just detoxed and got over the drug, I did NOT want to get back into that routine again.

“OK tonight,” the DJ said, “I want to see how you do on the mic. I'm gonna have you introduce the upcoming dancers, alright?”

Oh no, I thought. Here it is. I have to play the role of cheesy strip club DJ guy. I have to use that dumb overly anxious salesman type voice. But, I've done theater before, so I just looked at it like it was a role or something.

So after the last song played and some girls got off the main stage, I went up to the mic and spoke into it.

“Alright guys, give it up for Sinnamon! She's going into the VIP lounge so get those dollars out and make her...”

Then, I broke out laughing. When I heard my voice boom over the club in that ridiculous strip club DJ voice, I couldn't take it. I doubled over and fedora hat guy had to finish. When he was done, he just looked at me sternly.

“What was that?” he asked.

“I don't know,” I said, still giggling. “But...I have to go.”

I walked out of the club, out to the car, started it up and went home.

When I walked in, She-Ra glanced at me curiously.

“You're back early,” she said. “I thought you had to be there till eight.”

Well, the laughing I had done earlier immediately turned to tears. I told her I just couldn't do it, told her about the bags of blow, the breaking down and the whole thing making me queasy. She was disappointed but understood.

“Well, I know a place where you can get a job,” she said with a sigh. “I'll take you there tomorrow.”

And that would lead me to a new adventure on it's own!

...to be continued.