Thursday September 29th
“What are you doing?” My mr asked. We were leaving for the airport in fifteen minutes, and I was at the sink, carefully filling two half-liter glass bottles with cold water.
“I’m bringing James water.”
“You’re what?” I could feel my husbands bafflement.
“I’m bringing James water. That’s what he wanted from Switzerland.” My husband snorted.
“Wow, he’s got game. Asking you for water.” He shook his head. “He couldn’t have asked you for anything more perfect. Clever man.”
I laughed, because he was so right.
Monday September 5th
“I’m so glad I will be back at the end of the month, it makes it a lot less sad to be leaving.” James and I were standing, side by side, at the short edge of the counter.
“It’s been sooo niiiice having you in the shop.” James reached his arm around to give me a squeeze. I slowly exhaled a tart skunky cloud of bas special then leaned my head on his shoulder.
“Can I bring you anything from Switzerland? Do you like cheese or chocolate? I wish I could bring you milk from the cows up the hill, but I don’t think it will travel well.”
James smiled and said, “I love presents. Would you bring me some of the water?”
Basjoe's Bas Special
Sunday September 4th
There were a cluster of customers at the bar when I walked in on Sunday night, but my favorite stool in the corner was free. James was in the back with the door closed. Leo Jr greeted me with a small smile. I asked him for a gram of the bas special, a latte, and a spa red.
I pulled out a beautiful nugget of G-13 I had bought earlier that day, when I had been there with 2rollingstoned, her mr, gapie, hasj, and piedpiperofvice. On the crawl I hadn’t been fully able to admire the lovely bud, which smelled of grapefruit, violet, and lemon thyme and was dense with resin and crystal. It was a pleasure to roll, fragrant and firm between my fingers.
Basjoe’s G13
A perfect latte appeared in front of me, and I took a moment to savor the happy relaxed vibe of the shop that evening. Every table was full, with a surprising number of groups of young cute women.
I sparked the G-13 and couldn’t contain my smile as I exhaled the surprisingly fresh –tasting grapefruit and orange blossom cloud. I immediately felt embraced by an expansive peaceful high. The caffeine from the latte was a lovely counterpoint and I sunk into Walt Whitman’s poetry as I puffed away.
“Song of Myself”
http://www.daypoems.net/poems/1900.html
The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the
distillation, it is odorless,
It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it,
I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,
I am mad for it to be in contact with me.
I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and turned to see James’ warm brown eyes and big smile. I hopped off the stool to give him a hug.
“Where are all your friends? Are they coming by?”
“No, I’m flying solo tonight. I didn’t tell anyone where I’d be because I wanted some me time.”
James headed behind the bar Leo Jr headed out for a break. We chatted while I rolled myself a big joint of the bas special. James rolled a joint as well, a bit quicker than me, and when I finished. He picked up my joint, in one hand and a toothpick in the other, slathering it carefully with terminator.
He passed the joint across to me, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he then repeated the process with his joint. “Now we’ll be on the same level.”
“Yay!” My grin was huge as we both sparked up our joints. James barely got his lit before a steady stream of customers forced him to put it down. I drew a deep hit into my lungs. Closing my eyes as I exhaled in order to better savor the tart lemon and skunk flavor.
Basjoe's Bas Special
I watched the terminator begin to bubble and roll down my joint, becoming translucent like warm honey. That same sweetness oozed slowly through my body, moving first up my arms from my fingers, slow and warm. I only smoked the first third of the joint before I lost myself again in my poem.
The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of
the wind,
A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms,
The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag,
The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields
and hill-sides,
The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising
from bed and meeting the sun.
Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much? have you reckon'd the earth much?
Have you practis'd so long to learn to read?
Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?
It seemed like only minutes before Leo Jr was back. James came over, joint in hand, and said, “I am going to sit outside for a bit. Want to join me?” I picked up my joint and followed him out into the cool night.
The words that passed between us will remain so, but that was when I told him about the water in Switzerland.
“It is a bit hard for me there, which is why I come here so much. It is a rough fit culturally. Too many bankers. Lots of rules. Too grim and materialistic. Very quiet. But at the same time we are so lucky to be there doing work we love. It’s safe. It’s beautiful, and so clean. I never thought “clean” would be something I cared much about, but it’s just pristine. You can see the trout in the bottom of the river in the very heart of the city. And the water tastes amazing. There are water fountains for drinking every block or so. And the lake is so beautiful.”
to be continued
Keep'em coming!!
