Poison Apples

         The thing that vexed Evan perhaps the most often, is the fact that he had so many out - of - the - ordinary experiences, and wished for them to be recognized. He supposed, though, that this was somewhat foolish as “life’s a journey, not a destination” as Aerosmith put it, and the point of the whole kit and kaboodle is the thrill of it all.


        He had though, so many literally “unbelievable” things happen to him that it only recently had begun to dawn on him that these things don’t happen on the norm to everyone.


        He had even sat down to list them, and recorded himself talking of these extreme sets of things.


        He was born a Scorpio, with the Sun, Moon, and Venus all in his first house with a Libra rising (though had also been told Leo). He did the charts himself from an astrological wheel chart book he read in 2000. In any case this made him one of the luckiest individuals born and still living, though it seems not necessarily monetary luck. 


        Definitely not.


        What it translates into is that Evan had the most extraordinary things happen to him all of the time. 


        Everything from UFO’s and ghosts to being inside of a tornado and living to tell the tale.


        This brings with it the heaviest distinction of being monitored and both hindered and protected by certain groups. Groups that are often talked of in conspiracy theory shows and books are like my old team of sidekicks.


          He no longer marveled that “oh I am being spied on,” or angered and ranting that “the government is suppressing me…” because he had seen that there is always a bigger picture. If he was meant to emerge into the mainstream, it will be allowed, and even helped.



        For instance the term “underground” has a new distinction to him since visiting Venice Beach, California recently. 


        Many places, in fact most places have a system of underground tunnels and sewer systems, etc. to keep things functioning normally. Back when these things were constructed, and before even, people fond that they had the means to also build underground tunnels and structures for other hush hush uses. 


        Evan was first told about this sort of thing when living a winter basically out of doors in Bethlehem, PA, where bootleggers used these sort of things alongside stars and celebrities to supply their elite “underground” parties.


        As far as Venice, well.



        He was outside of a club that was closed one night, at around the hour when after - hours parties are closing down as well and turning out their patrons.


        Being pretty much a broke, bearded, vagrant turned ut in the night, he went near to the back of a car right there when he  saw something on the ground which might prove useful. The car started and a young woman pulled around in a u- turn and rolled down her window. 


        She brandished a pistol and shoved it in Evan's face shouting “Get the fuck away from here, you want to eat a bullet?!”


        He had sttared,stunned, and ducked and ran down the street. She on the other hand parked, and got out of her car.


        He spent the next hour lying under an old VW camper waiting for her to clear out.


        He prevailed when at 45 minutes of the neighbors blinking their porch lights at me, he sang to her Phish’s  “Contact” ending with “...bummed is what you are when you go out to your car and there's a corpse!” 


        He then asked her if she was going for food, " Hey, get me  a burger!" 


        She laughed and left him alone.


        This particular club had been of his interest for some time. The front of the building showed city works that weren’t necessary for such a small jaunt. There was something amiss in the back as well, it just didn’t seem fit.


        Evan was not any whistle - blower, and that is why it was revealed to him one night. As he passed by, behind the bar in a four by four opening in the floor he saw down into the depths of a huge underground club, with a lot of people. It later became evident that there were others… these places not so much secret as “guarded” and V.I.P. only.


        Fucking cool!


        Alongside these premium secret spots are the designer drugs that can be found there from Amsterdam. They come in real manufactured packaging, and are of the utmost quality. Occasionally he would find some discarded in not so random places around town.


        It became apparent too, to him that some of the celebrities he saw “camping out” with their guitars and such were playing these places into the early hours and witching hours of the club’s time. There is a lot more to making it in this business than just gigging. There is the hidden and taboo for you too side of it all.


        More than meets the eye with a saucerful of secrets.



J




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