by Larry Brody
And now, due to popular demand, the second of the “Zeitgeist Boom”/”Drunken Monkey” columns from wherever the hell it is I first published them (It’s fiction, dammit! Don’t forget – it’s fiction!):
Mean Woman Blues
By Drunken Monkey
I’m in the Airstream, on the not-so-foamy pad that passes for a bed, playing a sweet shuffle beat on a little gal I met at the Chimacum feed store across the highway, when my cell phone rings.
Well, it doesn’t ring, actually, it starts thumping out the opening of “L.A. Woman.” Which, if you’re old enough to remember that song, you’ll know is totally out of sync with my fucking, or anybody’s, for that matter.