I Seen What I Saw

How could I not write about Denise? Denise, who maybe loved me the most and yet disappeared one night as if we were two car dealers finalizing a deal and driving off into the night.

              The first time I saw Denise, she was sitting forlornly and almost angrily in a folding lawn chair just outside of the door of Steve Hadley's Highland Park apartment. We'd returned from eating breakfast, ready to write and record the day's song. We did that for a while. I'd come over, we'd eat and then we'd pull together some song. Some of it was about Melinda, who he'd already been run through by, and some were just about things. Eventually, he started a band called The Acetones. I told them to change it to Acetone. And so they did.

              But one day, we returned, and there was this hot little blond girl curled up and ready to strike like a cobra at Steve. Evidently, they had a history. It was over before it began. They muttered some gibberish, and she left, and I watched her ass walk away. Sad, Her ass was sad.

              Years or maybe months passed, and she was pulled into my orbit again at a cookout at Mike Watt's place. Christ, you couldn't get away from this guy. Nice enough, but he had his hand in everything. I was there with Winnie and John, and Winnie knew Denise from work. They'd both wound up being waitresses at Capri, a cool place in Venice on Abbot Kinney. We talked. It was clear I liked her. As we left, John tried to poke some fun and said, "Mike just wants to fuck Denise." All I said was, "Well, if it comes to that, but I really just want to eat her pussy for a week."

              All of these memories become so entwined, and at some point, Beatta got involved as she and Denise were fast friends, as were Beatta and I. Beatta told me flat out, "She'll give you a blow job, but she won't fuck you." She said it sternly as something I should consider before taking action. Christ! Who was I to care about such things? She might as well have said, "she'll only touch the tip of your nose, but she won't fuck you." And I still would have gone all-in.

              It's all a blur, but one night I find myself in my bed in my little Los Feliz hovel, kissing Denise. She's radiant. She has this beautiful underbite and unshaven pussy. We kiss for hours, and then as if on cue from Beatta marshaling all of this from above, she takes me into her mouth.

              I'm in love as if I wasn't already.

              I have no recollection of how we got together, but we found each other in sheets and air of singular apartments, sharing the same breath and kissing each other's lips. We kept on.

              Eventually, and very ritualistically, we had sex on her bed in the room she rented from some Cal Tech engineers at the far end of Lake in Pasadena. We'd discussed it for days. This was the day. I bought pounds of Ahi to share with the guests of some party they were having, and when it was over, we slipped into bed and kissed, and I entered her, and we were together until it ended.

              Denise, I loved you. You were maybe the weirdest of the bunch, but only maybe, Nery loved me as deeply as you did. And you went through the heroin with me. It happened like it always did. At some point, I gave in and started getting high again. Beatta was furious that she'd still be with me. I’m ashamed to say I must have been wearing shorts. Beatta pointed to my skin-abraised knees and asked, "what the fuck is that?!" I just said I fucked her on the carpet, on the floor. Beatta was furious. I think she hated both of us for putting up with my disease. Beatta loved me too. And I love Beatta. Christ, I just love everyone. Truly. I just do. I see something shine in everyone, and I wrap around it like a silken wrap and hold them tight. I try and fall in love with everyone. What's the fucking point otherwise?

              At one point, we drove to Dallas, where Denise was from. Her dad, Billy Prince, was the Dallas Police department Head before he retired. He was an extremely big deal in Dallas and, by extension, Texas. We stayed with her Mom, who had long divorced Billy. Her brother was schizophrenic and on the streets and just not of this world and dealing with everything this world heaps upon someone like that. It was heartbreaking. I think he came to the house at one point, and I think he wore glasses. I just remember looking at him and wishing I could change it all. And then I fell into a diminishing pool of failure and sunk below the room, and he left. What could I do?

              We visited her Father in some palatial Dallas, the TV Show sorta place. He took us to Black Beauty Ranch, where we saw, pet, and loved all sorts of misused and rescued animals. I'll never write anything with more love than I'll write about that place. They cared. They fought. They paid. They saved so many animals that the rest of the world would just throw away. Either you love animals, and I'm in your corner, or you don't, and I'll wrap a morning star around your skull. It's that easy. It's that simple. It's that right.

              Eventually, we started to drive back to LA. The visit was over. It was nighttime. We were on the outskirts of Dallas, and out of nowhere, flashing lights pulled us over. I pulled over. I had no idea and barely cared what was happening. I have very little self-preservation instincts. I'm an imbecile when it comes to this. Two cops approached from both sides and asked for the usual registration and license. I gave it to them, but they noticed two pill bottles in Denise's handbag, and all alarms sounded. She had two bottles of completely inert health food store nonsense, the same as all of you eat each day. But they looked like drugs. They asked us out and separated us. I could see her talking to officers, now grown to several cars worth. I knew her. I knew she'd never invoke her name. But I would. I sure would.

              One of the cops asked me why we were in Dallas, given our CA licenses. I said we'd come to visit her Father, Billy Prince.

              The fucking sea split. They all stood back, wondering how they might get out of this. Now they were the villains. "You mean Billy Prince, The Chief of Police?" "Yes, that's her Father. We were visiting him." Christ, you've never seen so many 20-something-year-olds scramble to make it comfortable for us to drive away. Within minutes we were back in our car with all her ersatz pills, and we were driving West. She asked me what I had told them? I told her exactly what anyone would, she was furious, but I said take it down a notch, chief. We're moving.

              We lasted a few more months. We had wild sex outside in the sunlight like animals, and we gave each other gifts like saints, and then one night, it just ended. We said we should have a talk, and that talk lasted 2 minutes. We kissed. She left. And I've never seen her again.

              I miss her. I hope she's found someone to love for more than a few months. I love you, Denise.