Tuesday, January 17, 2006

ThePeach and TigerCat get Shot

2 summers ago, my sister TigerCat came to live with me for 4 months in Universitytown. It was the most fun 4 months of my life. What happens when soul-twins live together during the summer – the season of hedonism? We never found jobs, we slept all day, we sat around watching tv and convincing each other that we were ‘good catches’, we gained a good 10 pounds each, and we lay around in teeny tank tops to show off our massive, daily bacon-eating induced tits (and corresponding fat pants to hide our bacon-induced asses). All because of the pot.

You see, that summer I was dating TheTeen, a young, bright-eyed drug dealer and pot head. I never really liked pot, but universitytown is so boring during the summer that I didn’t seem to have a choice. And neither did TigerCat.

On TigerCat’s last night in Universitytown, we decided we should do something special. Serious pondering later, we went to see TheTeen – we had by then broken up– for some good old-fashioned marijuana. The only thing was, he wanted us to smoke it with him. This soon led to him crying, TigerCat and I laughing (as the pot can do), him trying to make out with me, and TigerCat and I deciding to get the hell out of that drug-infested cry-hole.

High as kites, we set out for the 24-hour A&P for pies. Yes, plural pie. Now, I need to explain something. When TigerCat and I are high, the music finds us. The music of our hearts. Thus, we can no longer move normally, but are forced to dance. A lilting, graceful dance. So that is how we made our way to the A&P. gently.

That’s when we were shot.

Of all nights, of all people, those 4 teenage punks in daddy’ car had to pick us – the strung out pot heads – for their drive-by target.

I noticed a car coming quickly towards us. I opened my mouth to warn Tigercat, but just then something flew at us from the open car window. TigerCat was struck in the chest and we were both splattered with her blood. We fell down, we cried, we panicked. I started screaming ‘my baby sister has been shot! Shot right in the chest!’. We waited for her to bleed out and die. That’s when I noticed that her wound smelled delicious. We tasted it. Sweet and Sour sauce. Sweet and Sour sauce!! Joyous day, she was going to make it! That wasn’t a bullet lodged in her chest, but a McDick’s sweet and sour sauce packet!

We were covered head to toe in sauce, but we still ventured on to the A&P to buy pies and cookies – because damnit, we had to celebrate life! To life!

Now, imagine, if you can, 2 girls wandering the A&P at 2am, covered in some sort of sauce, one of them limping (TigerCat wasn’t completely convinced that she hadn’t been shot), with a cart full of pies, bloodshot eyes – and them both dancing. Gently. Fuck, I don’t know how we got away with it.

We woke up at 3pm the next day covered in pastry and sweet and sour sauce, our bloated stomachs spilling out of the fat pants, Moulin Rouge paused on my tv, several sad messages on my computer from TheTeen, and a huge purple bruise on my sister’s sternum. No wonder she limped.

She went home that night. I cried. Gently.

The Peach.

1 comment:

TigerCat's Bf said...

I typically wouldn't believe a word of this or any blog written by a girl who names herself after a fuzzy fruit...except I've witnessed TigerCat high...first hand.

And on that day a special place in my heart was born for microwaved peanut butter wraps.

God bless hot chicks + marijuana.