It Might Be Dos Equis

(Blogger’s note: Another story submitted by my good pal and surely up-and-coming published writer Milky Dent. I’d say this one is pretty much straight fiction, except all the stuff which isn’t – and I’d like to remind you that I have edited and also written the Foreword for Milky’s first ever book – “The Files of Milky Dent” – which should be appearing on the Amazon best-seller charts as we (thankfully) change years soon, plus I’ll be selling them real cheap too.)

And now — More from Milky:

My name is Milky Dent, you probably first think of me as the guy who tells all these way cool stories though it should be said that not only if you do think these stories are way cool but that you can even form that opinion because you’ve read a couple or a few or a bunch or a big whole gaggle of them, well I am both sorry and thrilled to say that that very fact makes you one of a small few who know the stories and tales and (sometimes) fantasies and imaginings of the hardly famous at all Milky Dent (me), and one thing you learn in life if you’ve been around a good long time (and I am 29 years old so that includes me), the one thing you learn is that if you find yourself in what gets called the minority, so as an example if there are 1000 people in a room and 993 are Republicans and the other seven are from the American Yippie Party well then for sure you are in the minority and it’s obvious in this particular example that the minority is cool and smart and all those others which is nearly all of everyone are stupid and foolish and barely worth three piles of hot steamy dog poop, and yes I know that may come off as a little harsh but not really if you pay any attention.

Anyhow that’s only one example and you could be a pet owner of a raccoon (sitting) with a whole bunch of people who own dogs (someone’s got to provide those steamy piles) and once again that makes you in the minority and for people who do own raccoons and have them as pets and let their toddler kids play with them well you know that’s very cool, and then everyone in a college class could think one thing except two freaky kids who think another and in that very college class you could be studying the plays of a Europe guy named Ibsen from way back and he had a play about this very thing which is don’t make fun of the minority of people thinking stuff because they just might be right and the fact is that’s true way more than it isn’t and all this goes back to if you are what you might even call yourself a ‘fan’ of the stories and writings and tales and creations and fabulations of Mr. Milky Dent (moi) then that’s a good thing and bump everyone else who’s too busy watching what everyone said should be watched this month and not sitting in some comfortable chair or leaning up against a seawall at some beauteous beach reading, and that’s why there are hardly any comments with these stories meaning and as has been proved beyond a doubt – badge of honor, Kids, for showing up.

So here I am a 29-year old young white boy sitting on a large blanket on the sand of Venice Beach, which is where I live in an old garage turned into a small cottage out past the canals and I’m daydreaming which I do a bunch and I’m thinking about what an amazing body-surfer I very well may become one of these days and –

Tada! – here’s the story, and (Once upon a time) last Tuesday I was down here (ocean) and the plan was to work on my rookie body surfing and to think up a new story staring my very best and life-long friend Sir Rick Fluming and then I was going to walk up the walkway, thrilled and joyous I get to hang out in such an amazing place every single day of my life. and I’d be on my way to Wonder Pizza for two slices of pepperoni and one plastic glass of beer (Hamm’s) and so I was on my blanket and this girl was running down the beach in front of me and all of a sudden came to a screeching halt, and you can guess that screeching is just a cool adjective because how could anyone screech when running on sand and then stopping all of a sudden, this is how we writers work we pick out words and phrases and sentences and paragraphs which best serve the possibility of creating what we call ambiance, so the story getting told has a place in which to live and the person reading it whether quietly to themselves or out loud like a group activity or something, that person can really feel what it would be like to be right inside the story, and so I told you this young girl running down more toward the water from my blanket came screeching to a stop and now here she was looking directly at me, and this is the way only young Mexican girls can look at you because that’s a real strength of theirs and she comes walking up and asks can she share my blanket while she rests up from her run and I say yes and she sits down and starts talking to me about isn’t the ocean a wonder and then we talk about the wonders of the world and how isn’t the ocean number one with a bullet, which I of course get a little more interested when she says that since I like that phrase (being a writer who likes and pays attention to phrases) and we talk back and forth about the planets in the solar system and bean and cheese burritos and she tells me she’s from a town called El Centro which is out in the desert and it’s hotter that a mofo (she says, which makes me slide a few centimeters closer to her on the blanket) and she has lived there all her life though two older sisters lived with their nana in Mexico proper for a while and only four months ago she moved to Los Angeles, now living in Culver City next to Venice and she moved here (she tells me) because she was offered a job to work as an overnight counselor at a runaway house in Hollywood and I ask her, quite delicately and politely, is it weird to be her age (which I am guessing is like 19) and be in some kind of boss position with kids who have run away from somewhere and somehow got into the group home and may be 15 or 16 and she says no, if you have a big heart and you believe in yourself and you know how to go ask for help if you have a good boss so you can learn more and get better at the job – to be a better helper – which is how she says she is, then being close in age won’t matter because the kids will feel safe, and I find this line of thinking and explanation and this conversation exciting and I can feel a growing excitement in me for her so I tell her a small amount about me being a writer which I wanted to be my whole life and now am and I mention I barely ever have much money which just felt like a good thing to say at the time and she laughs and says who does and we both know lots of people do and also lots of people don’t and we both raise our hands for the don’t club,

And I have not mentioned yet that I have dreamed my whole life since I started thinking I was going to be very interested in girls and someday have girlfriends and they’d be best friends and we’d always be hanging out, I have yet to mention that a secret fantasy wishing of mine has been to meet and become entranced by and hopefully be an equal entrancee of her with a Mexican girl – that is so true – and last Tuesday here is this girl who’s name, she told me, is Rosy and I suggested after I was running out of things to say why don’t we go and do body surfing and she said okay and even though she’d only been at the ocean these last four months she was very good as a body surfer as good as me and sometimes the waves would push us around and we’d end up tangled up right at the shore and after 20 minutes we began putting our arms around each other and then and I could not tell you why the planets and Gods and the world spin and roll the way they do but she came over to me in about four feet of water and put both her arms around my neck and gave me quite possibly the top kiss ever in my 29-year old life.

So, I know, I owe you a new story about Rosy and all the stuff we’ve been doing together since that first Tuesday. And though it hardly ever rains here on Venice Beach or Wonder Pizza or in Culver City or at the runaway house in Hollywood, I’ll just end it saying this – Raincheck.