AWP: The Interloper

The blog is sort of back. I don't know. I am wrestling with it.

here is the AWP post I never posted. I did not change it from when I originally wrote.

***

Here is my AWP experience. Get ready for the real real.

Tuesday: Bought my airplane ticket to Chicago. Realized I had no way to get to LAX in the morning. Begged a friend at the cigar lounge for a ride. He acquiesced.

Wednesday: One of the benefits of using Priceline to purchase a plane ticket 12 hours prior to departure is that you get to make connecting flights for no apparent intuitive reason. Flew from LAX to PHX. Waited a couple hours. Flew from PHX to CHI. A moderately attractive middle-aged blond woman sat next to me on the plane. She seemed very nervous and made great efforts to ignore my existence. She never looked in my direction for the entire 4 hour flight.

My flight was delayed and I didn't land until about 9:30pm. This was disheartening because I wanted to attend the Orange Alert reading very badly. Barry Graham, Molly Gaudry, Jason Jordan and Blake Butler were reading and I desired to hear their voices. My phone also received no service in Chicago so I was sans communication.

Molly and I were going to meet up that night and discuss our reading at a local radio station the next day. I gave up on the idea of attending the reading.

I took a taxi from O'Hare to downtown Chicago. The country side was bland. Everything looked really mediocre to me. The cabbie was listening to the radio and the news informed me of possible snow on Friday. I was excited. I hadn't felt snow in numerous years.

The taxi trip cost $37. I had no money and did not tip. I didn't feel the taxi driver deserved a tip either. He didn't offer any information about the city or ask how I was feeling. I went to my room and fell asleep around 6am to an episode of "Married With Children".

THURSDAY:

I woke up around 9 or 10 am. Showered, dressed, realized I had not packed any socks and met up with Gena for breakfast. We walked around a little. We both noticed how rude and inconsiderate the locals were. Gena is fond of Panera Bread so we decided to eat breakfast there. I ate a ham and swiss on rye sandwich. It was very tasty but over priced. During breakfast I realized an extreme dearth of attractive women living within the city. Gena concurred.

We left Panera Bread and walked around. Some degenerate black guy told me he liked my shoes, ran a dirty rag over the tops of them, did the same to Gena's boots, made a couple funny rhyming statements and asked for $8 per shoe. He made me laugh so much I gave him some money and so did Gena. I forget how much but it was too much regardless.

I walked with Gena up and down Michigan avenue looking for the Hilton AWP conference dick dance thing. The weather was cold and felt good against my freckled skin. I think my viking blood kicked in or something because I wasn't cold at all. Gena exclaimed "there's Molly!" after every asian woman we encountered on the street and it made me chuckle each time.

We finally found the Hilton after about a 40 minute walk. Gena had taken about 25 pictures and I counted only one attractive woman. Outside the Hilton Daniel Bailey and Peter Cavanaugh stood defiant. We talked to them a little bit. Daniel was going to go sit in on some AWP discussion with some arab named poet guy.

AWP wanted me to pay $200 to go to a glorified grade school book fair because I was not a student. They were penalizing me for being an outsider. I was an interloper to them. I didn't have the $200 dollars. I was not going to pay it even if I had it though. Gena asked Peter to find Blake Butler and bring him out to meet us. The AWP lanyards were of rudimentary design and I contemplated forging one at a kinkos later that night. Peter came back and said he couldn't find Blake. Peter seemed really sad and alone. He said we could hang out at his dorm if we wanted. Some guy asked me for money as we made our way out of the Hilton. I didn't look up at the guy and said I thought I just gave the last of my money away to the last person but let me check my pocket. Gena sounded excited and asked "do you know who that is?". I looked up. Saw a normal looking guy. I mean normal in terms of non-writer looking. I realized it was Sam Pink exactly at the same time Gena told me who it was.

We talked to Sam for awhile. He told me his real name. I told Sam he will always be Sam Pink to me and I thought his birth name was the moniker of a douche bag anyways. Sam laughed. Sam and I made fun of writers and their egos. We laughed a lot. I realized Peter was standing quiet and awkward waiting for us to go back to his dorm. I told Peter we were going to hang out with Sam and he said goodbye.

Sam, Gena and I meandered around the city a little. We went to the Art Museum and I put my head between the legs of a lion statue. I pointed out to Gena that the statue had balls. She found this very amusing. Some black guy asked us for money to help children. All three of us gave him money. The black man stuffed the money in his pocket and i felt like we had been swindled. The man informed us that the Shedd aquarium was free today (free thursdays). Before I could inquire what the Shedd aquarium was, Sam became very animated and told us excitedly we were going to the Shedd. I liked his enthusiasm.

The aquarium was housed next to Lake Michigan. The lake was massive and looked more like a personal ocean.

Inside Sam, Gena and I stared at various aquatic creatures. Gena kept trying to kiss the turtles through the glass, Sam was intrigued by the eels, and I was mesmerized by the Japanese Spine Crabs. The spine crab slowly maneuvered itself up and down this little corner of rock wall. I thought about it the entire time at AWP, the fact that at any point in my current existence a japanese spine crab was methodically climbing up and down the same rock wall in a small man made aquarium housed in a building sitting on a great lake as the earth spins wildly through immense space.

I took a big shit at the aquarium and we left. Sam saw some crazy old guy jogging shirtless and in shorts. We departed.

That night Gena and I were going to hang out with Ryan and Christy Call but (excuse the lame pun) they never called Gena to give us directions of where to go. I was tired from walking sans sock anyways and fell asleep around 9:00pm.

FRIDAY:

Woke up, washed my balls, ate McDonald's for breakfast and met a couple of fluffy white dogs named Cassie and Cocoa. I never eat fast food any more so this was kind of a big deal for me. Ryan Call stole a AWP badge on my behalf. He was super nice and awesome. I embarked to the Hilton.

Hot girl count was only up to 3.

Met up with Ryan. He handed me a badge with the name "Adam Robinson" printed on the front of it. The name was known to me. Adam is the guy from Publishing Genius. He walked up and Ryan introduced us. He seemed nice. A little eccentric but i think it is a positive trait. Adam told me "i feel confident you will represent my name well".

Apparently Adam was not familiar with "Jereme Dean".

Ryan walked us to the Noo/Publishing Genius/No Colony table. There was a rumor Mike Young had been thrown out for flying the remote controlled mini-helicopter. The thought "how lame is the hilton and/or awp convention that they felt the need to remove a person from the premises over flying a harmless remote controlled plastic helicopter." I arrived at a table with various penis bearing human beings. The helicopter was not confiscated and Mike Young had not been incarcerated. Ryan was slightly disappointed the rumor was false.

I met Shane Jones. Shane was tall and long and spoke with a slight speech impediment. I shook his hand and said hello. This being the only words we would speak during my entire tenure at AWP (except when i said 'bye' the last day but i don't remember shane saying any words in response).

Next I met Mike Young. Mike was wearing some sort of homo-erotic johnny cash/cowboy shirt. I liked it. Mike had a slightly nervous voice and i thought his accent was interesting.

I asked where Blake was several times. I found Aaron Burch at the Hobart's table and gave him 3 cigars from the stash i had brought from Orange County. Aaron smiled frequently and had a glorious beard reminiscent of Pennsylvania Dutch. The Hobarts table attracted large groups of passersby because of the free shots of Evan Williams and cigarettes. There was a sexy blond woman standing next to the table. I told her she was 'hot' or something similar to that. Later I would find out it was Elizabeth Ellen and feel bad for hitting on her in such a lame manner.

I found Barry Graham at the Dogzplot booth (it was right next to the NC/PG/NOO table) and introduced myself to Barry. I instantly liked Barry and felt very comfortable. Barry is a massive man. He reminded me of a comic book character like the Juggernaut or the Thing. I thought 'if i end up in a fight later, i want barry and sam at my side'. I did not feel this way about any other writer type at awp.

I kept mistaking Adam Robinson for Blake Butler. Their body shapes are similar i think.

Ryan and Mike started flying the remote control helicopter. People were getting very excited over it and running around like little children. I did not want any one to think I was weird and lonely because I was not participating in the flying of the helicopter. I walked over and pretended to care/be enthused about the flying toy. People kept crashing the helicopter. Ryan Call was able to pilot it the best.

Blake and Gene Morgan walked up to the table. Blake didn't seem to notice who I was so I introduced myself. He said 'hello' and walked off to talk to some one else. Gene was a big man but looked like a cuddly bear in neon. Gene wore lots of brightly colored clothing and accessories. I thought he would be intimidating and grumpy but was the opposite. I introduced myself to Gene.

I bought Blake's novella "Ever". Blake signed it for me. I did not read the inscription immediately because I thought it would seem needy and lame like I had a school girl crush on him or something. I put the book in my bag with Gena's books.

I went looking for Molly Gaudry and found her by the Keyhole booth. Molly is super nice to me via email. Meeting her in person seemed different. I don't know. She seemed really nervous around me and didn't use many words to talk. I couldn't tell if she hated my guts or not.

I said goodbye and walked back to the booth.

At the table people were talking amongst themselves. I was starting to feel alienated and negative about myself because no one really seemed interested in talking to me.

I noticed many people (mostly women) walking by the table but hardly any one stopping to look at the books. My retardation kicked in and I thought it would be a good idea to say something stupid to every woman passing. Such great lines like "hey! you! come here! do you like words? check out these fucking words!" while pointing at the last copy of Blake's novella "ever". This occurred for 30-45 minutes I believe? It is hard to discern.

Justin Taylor visited the table and seemed really nervous around me. I was not sure if he knew who I was since my badge read "adam robinson".

I crouched low and hugged justin's waist hoping to make him a little nervous but also showing I had no real ill will towards him.

Some one decided we should all go eat as a group. I was happy because the book fair was starting to bore me.

Ryan Call, Christy Call, Sam, Blake, Mike, Gene, Gena, Daniel and myself wandered the cold night of Chicago looking for something to eat. Christi Call has got to be one of the coolest chicks I have met. She was not intimidated by me at all. I kept testing her limits throughout the night forage for food and Christi laughed at each childish remark. Despite my best efforts to push her away, she never seemed offended or put off by anything I said. She is one of my favorite people from AWP.

The collective decided on some Chicago style pizza restaurant. It looked mediocre, cookie-cutter corporate america bullshit. There was no soul or charm in the place but every one was hungry so I didn't speak against going in. I asked Sam if it was any good and he shrugged.

Inside we sat at a makeshift long table reminiscent of the last supper of Christ. My social anxiety was flaring and I secluded myself at the end of the table next to Gena and Daniel. I felt safe there. I think I had heard Daniel utter about 5 words during my entire concrete reality relationship with him. I felt somewhat comfortable.

Our waitress was outgoing but very inept. She didn't pay attention very well and messed up several times. My negativity surges when I am anxious and kept prodding the waitress with sarcastic remarks. Hopefully she took it in stride (we tipped her well).

I didn't really get a chance to talk to any one. Daniel was quiet. Blake/Gena were talking to people at the other end of the table. I started to get really bored again and felt like entertaining myself by making a crawling spider out of paper straw covers. It failed. I showed Ryan how I am a dickhead and like to play pranks on random people. by unscrewing the top of a parmesan cheese shaker, flipping the shaker over so the open end was flush against the table, then placing the lid of the shaker on the exposed bottom end. It looks like a normal shaker until some one grabs it and cheese goes all over the fucking place.

Blake got excited about something and pounded the table with his fist. The lid of the shaker slid off and I used gum to glue it back in place. Blake pounded a couple more times but the shaker kept hold.

The pizza was bread thick. Holy shit. I felt like I accomplished something by eating two slices. Gene took down 3. He is master samurai.

We left, others made plans, people split up and Gena and I followed Blake/Gene to a liquor store where Gene bought some mescal tequila. Gena had said she didn't like beer. I bought her some lambic, pear i think, to show her that beer is not all budweiser and garbage. We walked to Gene's room and started drinking. Gene was staying in a Hilton hotel but the hotel looked like it was transplanted from 1983 Las Vegas. I loved it. I think this was my favorite time at awp. I was not in a large group and felt comfortable to sort of be myself. At some point Mike Young showed up to the drink party.

We left for the L train reading. Outside we met up with Sam, Molly and Blythe Winslow. Blythe was tall and blonde. I think hitler would have been proud if she were born in 1932 germany. I did not talk much on the way to the reading.

Mike was worried we were not going to make it in time and was getting slightly annoyed by the levity of the group I think. Gena had to stop and pee at some point which slowed us down dramatically. A great thing about large cities is indifference towards fellow man and the lack of public bathrooms. I helped Gena find a bathroom and almost destroyed a Barnes and Nobles (or was it borders?) worker for taking her license so she could pee.

We got to the train station in time. I heard Mike shrieking in the background for people to get in formation. A large group of people was standing nuts to ass waiting for the train. I stayed near the back away from the people until the train came. I carved a path through the people once boarding commenced boarded at the very end of the last train car.

Normally I despise readings. They are boring and self-ejaculatory to me but the masses seem to want them and the writers seem to bask in the attention. It always puts me off.

The reading started out with some black guys bantering back and forth, then suddenly they ran off the train. I think that was part of the reading right? Adam Robinson was taking film of it at least. I liked it.

The close proximity of people made it hard for me to focus on anything. My agoraphobia was pounding in my weak head and the only thought I had was "get the fuck off the train as fast as fucking possible fuck this reading shit fuck I need to escape". The thought was finally interrupted when Sam started talking loudly and began reading about taking a bubble bath together. I felt calm and good.

Sam was done reading. The anxiety instantly came back but worse. My mind snapped out of nowhere when I heard Blake begin to drunk scream read. His reading was my favorite moment of literary things I have thus experienced. He has a weird delivery of words, emphasizing things, but not over the top. His reading completely quieted my mind, everything diminished but his head and book clutched within fingers. The reading felt personal, a commitment or marriage between his words and my mind. I would change my philosophy regarding readings if they were always like Blake's.

Sadly, they are not. Blake finished abruptly just as he started and I couldn't focus again. An unknown voice from the crowd announced we had only a few more minutes until our stop at the Book Cellar. I looked at my feet and counted seconds in my head until the train reached our destination and exited. I don't know who read after Blake. My mind ruined things as usual.

Slowly people walked from the train station to the book cellar. Snow was beginning to drift down from the sky. I heard Mike Young ask people if they thought he 'put on a good reading?' several times. He didn't seem to be asking out of insecurity. It was more of a clever way to say 'I did this. I want you to know I did this'. I purposely resisted telling him it was good as a result which makes me just as childish.

Ryan Call was scheduled to read at the Book Cellar. All those people started packing into this little shop. I started to panic about it but wanted to support Ryan by being there for his reading. I left for a quick walk to a 7-11 with Gena. We were gone for only 10 minutes. Cuddly Gene and Sam were standing outside when we returned and informed us the reading was already over. I felt bad I was not there to support Ryan.

Gene and I started smoking cigars. In terms of cigar etiquette, a person gifted with a cigar is supposed to make some effort to smoke with the person gifting the cigar. Gene was the only person who showed 'good' cigar etiquette. Gene and I puffed away as the snow fell.

Some russian guy with girl in tow asked Sam for an autograph. Sam seemed really nervous by the request but was not a dickhole and signed something funny for the guy. I think he said something funny too. It is hard to remember because I was trying to get the russian girl to talk to me. I don't think she said one word.

People came and went. I smoked. Gene hinted that he was going to get sick from the cigar but kept pulling drags of smoke from it. I was proud of him.

Blake's drunken ass thought it was a good idea to go to some release party by cab fare with some others. I queried him 3 times if the place was a bar and he said no each time. Gena wasn't 21 and thought it would suck if she got stuck outside in the snow while the rest of us drank and soused it up.

The cab was ridiculously packed.

We arrived at a bar. My fault for trusting drunk people. It made me laugh. Sam, Gene, Gena and I stood outside while others went in. The bar looked like a bar to me. Nothing special. Various people stood outside smoking.

I saw a very attractive girl walk out of the bar to smoke a cigarette and motioned her over to me. We talked about why she was there and how the 'party' thing was. I showed her Sam's book after she admitted her ignorance of him. The pretty girl (I forget her name) said she liked the writing which was my (intended) segue to introducing Sam to the girl. After yelling and prodding Sam finally walked up to talk to her and I immediately removed myself from their proximity. I think I made comments to Gene that I hoped Sam would get laid but I thought he looked too nervous.

A car pulled up with two young black girls. They were not shy and asked posed a question to Gene I did not hear. The black girls were not scared of Gene, Sam and myself. I thought that was interesting. Gene shrugged and asked Sam to assist because he was a local. Sam seemed really confused by the question which I heard (but do not remember the phrasing). They were asking where to buy drug paraphanelia. I translated to Sam and laughed.

I am the drug lexicon.

Blake, Gene, Molly, Blythe, Gena, Sam and myself took a taxi back to Gene's hotel where Molly and Blythe were also staying. At arrival I volunteered to hunt down booze and took orders. Mike showed up as I was departing, informed me he normally drank whiskey but wanted something sweet. The comment seemed out of place funny and made me smile.

Finally I felt normal as I walked alone under the Chicago night snow. The booze hunt took some time. Two 7-11's sold absolutely no beer/wine. The third 7-11 possessed a small collection. "What is wrong with this gravel sucking shit hole of a town where booze is this hard to find?" I thought while perusing the shitty collection of adult beverages.

It was one of the few moments I missed Southern California.

Upon return, hotel hallway furnishings were misplaced randomly and Gene's room was vacant.

Apparently Blake had been running around doing drunken shit to inanimate objects while I was out hunting booze for the groups happiness.

I found people downstairs in the bar. Sam had left unannounced which saddened me. I bought two 40's of King Cobra for us to drink together. The mescal was breakdancing in Gene's stomach/head regions and he retired for the night.

Blake, Molly, Blythe, Mike, Gena, myself and a writer type guy I did not know headed to Molly/Blythe's room. Blake was flip floppy every where and had me smirking frequently.

Molly didn't really speak in the room just like at AWP. I found it odd. She left for snacks.

I took Gena's camera and snapped a blurry pic of Blake which I felt was a decent representation of how I see things. Blythe was being grizzled and would not allow me to take a picture of her. I eventually gave up.

Molly came back with processed snack loot. Blake was getting exponentially drunker much to my amusement. He is a happy drunk.

Gena, Blake and I made escapes into the night.

Saturday:

Packed my shit, met up with Gena and left to AWP book fair. Gena was supposed to fly out that night but decided to say 'fuck it' and stay behind. I was going to crash in Barry's room that night and go apeshit crazy drunk but I felt bad leaving Gena alone. I did not want her to get murdered or something. Gene was nice enough to invite us both to crash in his room for the night which we took up.

The book fair was snorestown. Gena drank from a bottle of sweet wine until she busted it into a million pieces under the NC/PG/NOO table next to Daniel's feet.

I talked to Barry frequently. He had last day deals. Sam's book was $5 and his own only a $1. $6 precisely existed in my pocket at that unique moment in time. Both were purchased adding my book count to 3.

Gena was trying to fly the remote control helicopter. She was failing badly. I inquired when the helicopter was going to be given away to a lucky NOO Journal supporter. Mike was telling me he was fond of the helicopter and wanted to keep it for himself. I disagreed with that thought process but Gena destroyed the helicopter's functionality before I could vocalize my objection.

Gene, Gena and I left for Gene's room. The 'group' was supposed to meet up for some reading at some college later that night.

In Gene's room we watched a nature show where large birds of prey soared the desert horizon searching for tasty animals to eat.

An iguana living in the day sun realized its ephemeral life and panicked, running awkward with hips pistoning left to right, finally being snatched by swooping claws and ripped open by beak.

I fell asleep replaying the image of the scared iguana running on desert sand.

Gene woke me and we left for the reading, meeting up with Ryan, Christi, Blake, Mike, and Daniel in the street.

The atmosphere immediately put me off. It felt very contrived and bourgeois to me. A guy serving red wine was present. Manicured people talked highly of themselves. I missed Sam and felt trapped.

I tried to talk to Blake but there were too many people around me and I couldn't think well. I did get a chance to nervously tell him something about myself that I normally hide from people.

Gena and I walked into a large auditorium, found seats near the front next to Daniel/Gene and sat down. I saved an empty seat next to me for Blake and was hoping to finally talk to him on a personal level as I am fully aware of how polarized my personality is when interacting within a social group compared to talking privately with another person.

Blake ended up sitting far away by Justin Taylor and some other guy. I felt a little sad because it was going to be my last chance to talk to him. Blake is very ambitious and sort of like an ambassador of independent lit and I figured he was doing the ambassador thing. Or maybe I am wrong and he hated my guts too. I had not been wearing socks the entire fucking trip.

Gene and I chatted about literary type things. We discussed Noah Cicero and Sam Pink. We talked about HTMLGiant, where it was going and I made a joke that they would have to get rid of me to be 'professional'.

The readings started. I was extremely bored and tired, started criticizing/making fun of the readings to Gena who did not seem amused, fell asleep frequently, kept waking up to more and more endless readings. They would not stop. God why wouldn't they stop.

Fell asleep again. Gena was gone. Daniel looked like he was as bored as me.

I got up and left. Looked for Gena. Couldn't find her. Decided I would walk back alone to the hotel but went back to the auditorium one last time and found her with Blake. My stomach felt sick and cold. People were constantly moving around me and I was getting angry sweats.

I asked what Blake and the others were doing after the reading and kept getting weird non-answers which I took as 'we don't want you around'.

Gena and I left for Gene's hotel room and I passed out almost immediately after arriving at his room. Some time later that night Gene came in and I moved/slept on the floor.

Sunday:

Departed in the 4ams with Gena in rear to the airport. Took the subway. Subway is always fun that early in the morning. Gena took a picture of a black man passed out on the train.

We had to make a connecting train to the airport. Walked through an underground tunnel where a black man sat on the concrete floor far down near the other end while singing 'stand by me'. His sad weathered voice echoed into my head.

I told him he was beautiful.

Said goodbye to Gena and escaped back into the high air dwelling about many things:

My imminent death, Chicago seeming mediocre, Sam Pink, books, alienating people and wondering why I cannot stop myself from acting that way, eternal loneliness, flying across the united states to buy 3 books totalling $16, meaninglessness, the fact that I bought the book "the baby sitter's club" from a thrift store to give to Sam but I had forgotten it, what the fuck was I doing at AWP, interloping, giving up writing, Ryan Call taking home all that damn pizza, that midget lady, drugs, married with children, electronic helicopter destruction, my beard was pretty sweet, lorca, where the fuck were the hot girls in chicago, pessoa, drunken readings, secrets, how am i getting home from lax, friendships, lack of friendships, parmesan explosion, ego, worthlessness, and death.

One idea I cannot get out of my head since chicago, despite my best efforts, is that japanese spine crab housed in a glass cage, in a room with very dim lighting, in a mediocre city located on the surface of a spinning rock floating through an inexplicable vastness, spending minute, hour, day, week, year and life slowly maneuvering the same piece of underwater rock for no particular purpose at all.

existing without philosophy, without language, without academia, without addiction, without any of our approval.

alone at the bottom of a tiny personal sea.