Sequel: Pretty Bird

People Got A Lotta Nerve

People Got A Lotta Nerve; Neko Case

The Wild: An abstract, beautiful concept loved by people from afar. ‘Save The Whales! Save The Oceans! Save The Gorillas!’ They cry, waving their banners around and refusing to eat meat, standing steadfast and strong in their beliefs. They say that the world around us is fluid, constantly in motion, a ticking time bomb just poised, waiting to erupt and begin a new cycle of life. Life is always just around the corner, and we have to preserve it.

They see the beauty of a multi-ton whale, propelling itself through the water using fins and flippers designed to be so streamlined and perfect-a work of God, they say. They see Cheetahs pound their paws on the savannah landscape, reaching speeds of 60 miles per hour, tackling the antelope or the zebra, and we call this prowess and grace, the art of killing, the circle of life.

I may not be a steadfast environmentalist, but I can sure call the bullshit card when I see it.

We call them killer whales, but then we act surprised when they pin their trainers at the bottom of the tank, the beauty we thought they once possessed now gnarled and crippled, stuck in a vice grip of easily swayed human emotion. We call them kings of the jungles, our closest ancestors. But when a gorilla mauls a poor, unfortunate biologist, no longer are we related to this creature, and he is cast in shadows all over again, condemned due to this ‘circle of life’ we claim to hold do close to us.

People see a pretty girl, and instantly, she must be scooped up, held and carried ever so gently through the world, not allowed to have more than a glimpse of the real world.

It’s a sick, sad world, my friend. It’s a sick, sad thing when people have to be locked up and pacified, kept locked up in someone’s heart, confined.

I never thought I would find myself here, talking like this, fighting against the unsaid common knowledge shared through all societies on the planet. I never thought I would be tamed, coddled, and loved, especially by someone like Oliver.

Funny thing is, I never intended for this to happen. I never wanted to go to that stupid show, I never wanted to get dressed that day, do my hair. I never wanted to fall in love.

But I guess just like we can’t control The Wild, we can’t control our fates either.

Stars aligned, our paths crossed. He smiled at me, flipped his fringe out of his face, and I was done for the count. I still can’t tell you what he saw in me, but I can tell you what he first saw of me: me, face down on the floor of a dirty show venue, practically exposed for the world to see.

Funny how me being short would change my life forever.

---

“Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there, love.”

I was used to boys like him. Tall, ridiculously skinny, and loads and loads of tattoos. I wondered if this was his way of picking up chicks or something.

Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.

Good Christian was my very own buzz kill, but its not like it mattered. Why would I want this kid to hit on me anyways? I was definitely not attracted to him, I’m not attracted to anyone!

..Yeah, okay. Say that to your ex boyfriends...

It was times like this that I really wished I could vote Good Christian off the Island, survivor style. The Island of course, being my head.

"Uhm…You alright, love?"

oh god...you've been staring there like an idiot!!!

"Oh, uhh, yeah, I'm fine. You’re not the first person to not see me. The joys of being 5’2." I tried to crack a smile, but the task seemed impossible.

"Do you need some help up?"

That’s when I had realized it....I was sprawled out on the floor. If you have ever been to Soma in San Diego, you know the floor is definitely a place you do not want to be. Covered in various dried up body fluids from shows past, sticky with food smuggled in past the security, and just general uncleanliness was probably now stuck to my body. Now, I may be 5'2, but I am not tiny. While I tried to dress comfortably when I was dragged to shows by my 'precious' roommate Emma, there is nothing wrong trying to be cute as well!

Well, today was not a good day for leggings and a button down, was it?

And this, my friends, is when I realized I was not wearing pants.

Normally this is okay, seeing my comfortable blue plaid button down was long enough to cover my ass, but I doubt this shirt could defy physics by keeping me covered as I fell to the ground.

"Uhhh,” I choked on my own spit. “No I'm fine" I could feel my face starting to burn from the insane amount of blushing.

Let the boy help you! He stopped and apologized!

No. No no no no he is not helping me! He can see my lady parts!

You are wearing underwear, stop being over dramatic....

“Alright then...have fun at the show, love.”

And then he walked away, probably thinking I was completely insane...from my lowly position, I probably looked like an extreme creeper, craning my neck to get a good view of his backside as he sauntered away from me, heading to a group of similarly dressed boys in a far corner of the lobby.

I stayed on the floor just a few seconds more, until I was certain he was no longer interested in the clumsy weirdo he had tripped. Tentatively, trying to look like a badass, I lifted my arms first, pushing my chest off the ground. I looked down, trying to survey the damage. A few pieces of popcorn stuck to my shirt, but other than that I was A-Okay. My knees came next, lifting the rest of me off the ground until I was upright once again.

I brushed myself off, and straightened my shirt. I knew my hair was a complete mess, judging from the piece of hair obstructing my vision that was too long to be a part of my bangs.

Who cares! Everyone's hair gets messy at a show. I probably fit in more now!

Good Christian’s feeble attempt to lower the level of self consciousness was a bust, and I ran off to the bathroom to fix my hair.

"Funny running into you here!" As I half ran into the ladies room, no other than Emma herself was leaning over the sink, he face 2 inches from the mirror.

"Oh, sorry, I couldn't find you so I just went to fix my eyelashes." She looked at me through the mirror, and then went back to applying another coat of mascara. I didn't have the heart to tell her she looked like a raccoon.

"Well, I went to the water fountain and on the way back, some random guy tripped me and sent me sprawling across the main lobby floor."

She giggled, not stopping her application of make up. "That bites, Chris."

I sighed. Leave it to Emma to be more concerned about her make up than the well being of her security friend. She would never ever go to a show alone, so as far as I was concerned, I should have been her main priority, not her pursuit of cake face-ness.

"Did you get his number or anything?"

"Uhh....no? What would I have done? 'Oh hey there, now that you've seen my nether-regions and all I definitely think we should take this to the next level. Wanna meet up for lunch?!"

"....Christian, you are wearing underwear, right?"

---

The rest of the show had been uneventful. Once I got Emma out of the bathroom, we went back into the main lobby. Soma is the main show venue down here in San Diego. Fun Fact! It is actually a converted movie theater, with a main lobby, lit snack counter, and 3 separate rooms for bands to play. Most bands sell their merch at the lit snack counter, so at the end of the show, surprise is not a good enough word to describe the look on my face when I saw the random tripper boy standing behind the merch counter, joking around with the same group of guys.

And, without fail, anxiety began to take over my thoughts, and the creeper side of me came out, grabbing Emma by the wrist and pulling her around the corner.

"What the fuck!?" She screamed, as I slammed her against the wall next to me.

"Just get out of view!" I whispered, my voice hoarse with adrenaline.

Emma looked at me, barely turning her head. Her platinum hair normally fell well past her shoulders, but now it looked like a white gold bird nest, with portions stuck to the wall, and other pieces sticking to her face and neck. "You are really ruining my hair" She let out a discontented sigh.

"It was messed up before, that's what happens when you get thrown into the pit."

She rolled her eyes, before her attention quickly was averted to some tall lanky kid I had never seen before. She smiled, her bright red lips curling at the ends, and hit my arm to get my attention. "See him??" She whispered.

I glanced at the kid, seeing nothing special. "Yeah, why?"

Emma's attention did not waver, nor did her eyes off this poor boy. I’m sure to Emma, he looked like Jesus Reincarnated, but to me, he just looked...normal. "I was chatting him up earlier. Isn’t he a fox?"

"Uhm, sure."

"Hold my bag for a second, will you?" She thrust her purse at me, and quickly walked off, her slip on vans squeaking across the dirty floor.

I stumbled for a second, trying to find a grip on her bag, which I swear must weigh at least 10 pounds. You have no idea how much stuff this girl has to keep with her at all times. Luckily for me, being the bag holder was a perfect job. I could stand here, out of sight from tripper boy, and keep watch over Emma's stuff without looking like a complete loser, though I am pretty sure the loser part is pretty unavoidable with me.

I watched as Emma swayed her lips slightly in beat to the music coming through the speakers as she walked over to her prey. She lightly touched his forearm, her long black fingernails just grazing his skin. He turned, looked at her, and instantly gave her a million dollar smile. She smiled back, and he began talking animatedly, his hands gesticulating, clearly telling a gripping story. Emma looked totally enthralled, following his hand movements, and adding conversation in right at the appropriate times. Emma was gorgeous. Every month she had to touch up her mousy brown roots to match the rest of her platinum hair, and her body seemed to go on for miles, especially her legs. Trust me, I am not into girls, but she was definitely gorgeous. I sighed, twisting a rogue piece of hair behind my ear, holding her bag with my other hand. I wished I was more like Emma- confident, funny, and socially comfortable. I, on the other hand, was awkward, had the weirdest sense of humor, and was simply easily forgotten.

All of a sudden, my daydreaming was quickly brought to an abrupt halt.

"Christian, this is Jamie. He's a guitar tech for the show tonight."

Finally, I got to see this 'fox' Jamie up close. His hair was shaggy, and flopped haphazardly in his eyes, which were so dark brown I couldn't even define his pupil. He was cuter up close, with olive skin and a light speckling of freckles across his nose and cheekbones.

"I’m Christian." I said, smiling weakly. I had no idea how this kid would react to me. I mean, lets face facts. Emma is the hot one. I didn't want to ruin her game by being a failure of a wingman.

"Jamie, nice to meet you." He smiled back, thrusting his hands into his pockets.

Emma turned to me. "Jamie said he could get me back stage…You too, if you wanted."

For some reason, it was very hard to swallow at that moment. My vision tunneled until the only thing I saw was Emma's face, smiling weakly at me, and shooting flirty glances to what I believed was Jamie.

You should go! Who knows what will happen!

Exactly...I have no idea what will happen. I was going to go home and start my Project Runway marathon, and a combination of bed, pajamas, and ice cream sounded incredibly comforting.

You can do that any other night!

No. Not doing it. Shut up, Good Christian.

"I actually have lots to do at home, Em. I was gonna leave after the show was over. I’ll take the car home, since I’m sure Jamie here won’t mind giving you a ride back." My vision all of a sudden got normal again, and my head felt like I had just freed it from being submerged in water.

"Oh...well, another time then?" Jamie said, taking Emma by the forearm. He probably had enough of Emma’s creepy room mate.

I nodded, and smiled weakly. "Ill see you back at the house, Em."
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re wrote this on 7-9-09.

:)