Talking with Ozzy always consists of sharing cigarettes and discussing life and love. It's hard, all the way around. He works at World Wide News, the downtown porn store/lotto centre/ beer store. It was cool, but sketchy. You wear a wig to cover your cherry red hair to work at Starfucks. You're in community college, bitter and sexually dissatisfied by yr girlfriend, who had just been dumped by her baby daddy before you got together, and is still so sexually tense, you can't touch her. You understand what tension is about, and you don't want to pressure her, but damn do you want to get laid.
She's a pixie like brunette, and even has gone so far as to have little faries tattooed onto her. She picked you up at the starbucks you're were both working at. You're faking cleaning the outdoor tables while talking to Sammy, tortured by your crush, trying to sneak a cigarette. She bounced out in her green apron with her smile that was just a pink frame for perfectly turned out bicuspids, and asked you on a date. Oh, Pixie. She was covered in fairy tattoos. She had a kid, too, an golden haired angel of a daughter who didn't like daddy either. Much later she'll get taken away, not because Pixie is stripping - who cares about that anymore? - but when she started more meth than social services could overlook.
But. One day Ozzy came into the vintage store and stared talking about friendship and loyalty and the importance of honesty. “Cool” You reply, “I know what you’re talking about. I fucking hate liars.”
Ozzy left early, and later that week, Pixie asks you to coffee before work. You meet her at Mark's, the local shitty diner with excellent fried cauliflower. She tells you she can’t see you anymore, that she was involved with someone. At this point you are so irritated by being with someone you can’t get down with, you accept this news gratefully, but honor dictates that you have to ask "Who is it, Pixie?"
"Ozzy."
That fuck, he stole my girl. Even if I didn’t want her, that’s still wrong.
To accept an invite to coffee by Ozzy’s friend Cate anyway.
To move on by entering making a zine.