Dust to Dust, Curses To Curses
Major destruction at the bar. It’s all good though apart from the death curse.
See, the restaurunt/bar we bought had a big problem. It was almost literally a hole-in-the-wall joint that nobody but the especially fearless and the thirsty British and Oirsh ever ventured into because, inside, someone from the way-back years had built a huge oast-like dome (heretofore known as The Carbuncle) right at the entrance. Huuuuge, like all really flippen big and stuff.
In this dome, the way-back someone had placed a psychic. The psychic must have had some hold over the oast-builder because for years she has occupied the place virtually rent-free and only ever worked the place on, unfathomably, Wednesday afternoons, possibly the slowest time for Ojai foot traffic in all the wide, winnowy week. Anyway, The Carbuncle blocks all the light from the street because the only window there is her’s, and it makes the bar look, from the pavement, like a dark, intimidating cave. That’s if you even notice there’s a bar there in the first place; our signage has to be kept to a minimum in order to be in keeping with the town-hall fathers’ vision of Ojai which seems to be a utopia crossing the the Taco Bell school of architecture with the European clinging-ivy school of herbiage.
The whole property (we are attached to a cool(ish) old-fashioned cinema too) changed hands recently and our landlord told the psychic to pack up her dolphin-themed baubles in her mirrored cloth-bags and take her patchouli-scented, swirly self away, away and be gone. You’d have thought she’d have seen it coming. Anyway, she took against this decision mightily and because we are the new occupiers of the bar, has taken against us too. To be fair, we were anxious for the carbuncle to go, but the landlord was already making plans to remove it so he could raise our rent. Fair Nuff. With or without us, she was outtadere.
In any case, we now have a death curse on us and she has been clutching bewildered passers-by – with her bony hands and showing them the whites of her rheumy eyes, telling them not to risk the death-curse by eating or drinking with us. But by hellfire and the bearded besoms of Bambridge, she must be really wild at us to go for the full-on death-hex. She could have plagued us with boils or social diseases or taken the fizz out of our lemonade or something but apparantly warts and flat pop are too good for us.
Later on today I’ll be taking my chances and going in all aflap with my own arsenal of powerful, mysterious potions. By the power of Pledge I will banish dust! And lo, with some fiddly spells and a solution of chemicals barely legal in the State of California, I will cause all dirt and debris to vanish before me.
And, further to that previous lo, I will pour myself a revivifying glass of something cold and pleasant but unfortunately not alcoholic as it doesn’t do to breathe boozily on the other mammies at the school gate at 2 in the afternoon. People can be sooo judgmental sometimes. Don’t these people know I have a death curse on me? It’s sorta stressful, you know. I mean, jeezo, Jennifer – can a dust-covered woman not even numb her fear of hideous death with an early tequilla or four these days without being looked at all askance and the authorities being called in? I don’t know what kind of world we’re living in any more, I really don’t. They’ll be asking that we feed our children nourishing breakfasts and participate actively in their social and educational development yet, you mark my words!
Where will it end?
October 23rd, 2007 at 6:41 pm
If thy carbuncle causes thee offence, pluck it out. I think you need a Big Opening Day, with a free first drink to all punters. Drinkers are creatures of habit. You have to shake them out of their apathy.
October 23rd, 2007 at 7:40 pm
I consulted my “Book of the Dead” (1261 edition) and the least arcane or troublesome counter spell for a base death curse is-
1. Margarita (must be top shelf tequila of your choice)
2. One eye of newt (considering it?s Ojia you won?t have trouble finding this locally)
3. A kiss from a chaste, virtuous virgin?now this is a problem?I have no idea where you might find one in these parts!
(If however, you have actually found a virgin but worry about your immortal soul by working black magic?
I?ll do the spell for you as long as the ah, virgin type is female- no transgender or cross dressers please!)
October 23rd, 2007 at 7:41 pm
With you giving that old bitch a firm kick in the arse and telling her to shut her yap and go get busy scamming innocent folk somewhere away from your about to bloom business.
Psychics, we hates them. Oh yes.
October 23rd, 2007 at 8:15 pm
It just wouldn’t be a Sam thing without an evil witch but have no fear ; I will be your fairy god- mother and protect you from all carbuncle excrescence without the aid of tequilas and such and she will wither and die!
October 23rd, 2007 at 8:47 pm
Give her a video of the Wicker man together with a message from the phantom of the seven holy isles.
October 23rd, 2007 at 9:54 pm
Now I would’ve thought that you of all people know full well that those other women are all high as kites on their various anti-depressant muscle relaxing skin firming anti-anxiety anti-psychotic happy pills. And as parents I’m sure they’ve all heard the sage advice concerning throwing stones and what it does to glass houses etc.
What I’m trying to say here is…fuck ‘em. Have a drink.
October 23rd, 2007 at 10:25 pm
Oh I dunno….if I happened upon a watering hole that had a mad old crone ranting, gibbering and hex flinging at the occupants I’d be well up for a bevvy or six to see what all the craic was about.
She might prove good for business…or you could fetch her a slap with a plank.
October 24th, 2007 at 8:56 am
How’d my auntie get to Ojai?
October 24th, 2007 at 10:18 am
I suggest you draw yourself to your full height (presuming you have a canvas of sufficient dimensions) and incant the names of all your ancesters at her in Gaelic, just so as she knows who she’s messing with. Then after the incanting you start decanting.
October 24th, 2007 at 10:35 am
My God, where are the hysterical burghers of Salem when you need them? This woman ought to be glad she’s living in California in 2007 and not Massachusetts in 1692.
GB’s idea of free drinks is a great idea. And I’d probably go for the Gaelic curses myself. Fight fire with fire.
October 24th, 2007 at 11:22 am
They?ll be asking that we feed our children nourishing breakfasts and participate actively in their social and educational development yet, you mark my words!
Of course, the others will be like that, and worse, mind you. That is, until they realize they need a place to host the PTA meetings. Then they’ll love you, I’ll wager.
Cheers.
October 24th, 2007 at 1:24 pm
Sam, you affected by the fires?
October 24th, 2007 at 1:47 pm
Just last night I watched an episode of Family Guy where a British dude took over the local’s hangout. Funny as hell.
I think a crazy lady adds that “je ne sais quois” to the atmosphere.
October 24th, 2007 at 2:04 pm
All the best pubs are cursed. (Pr. kurr sed).
If you had evicted me onto the street with my chatels, I would think up novel ways every day to make life more and more miserable for you and your customers. What fun we’d have.
ha ha.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHARRRRGLEiopj[][p#;l.';osofxxxxxxkdd............
October 24th, 2007 at 4:41 pm
Sam, this is an easy one.
If she had thrown boils or something minor at you then no biggie. But you can only play the death curse in extremely limited scenarios and this isn’t one of them.
When you see her next you could send it back to her.
“By the law of three I return your curse ten-fold.”
That should scare her shitless.
October 24th, 2007 at 6:07 pm
Nanas, we plucked it – it’s gone, all glory be! We are planning an official opening once all the floor’s redone, our new menu’s up and the dryrot in the wall has been treated. Possiblee the third or the tenth of November. This weekend we’re having a Halloween party and an album launch – should get bums on seats for those we hope.
Jer, I’ve met some pretty unvirtuous virgins before. Have you got any spells requiring Corona and the eyeballs of city-hall officials?
fmc, she’s a shrieker all right – claims to be a genuine gypsy on her mother’s side.
Pat, Should I ever need a fairy godmother you are top of my list – together we will battle the forces of evil with the forces of distilled cactus juice and maybe even Disney will make us into a feature film.
Vince, I know I can shriek and whirl and carry on far more spookily than she can. If we had a spook-off, I’m sure I’d win. I’ve got the old old accent see – useful when a-spellin’ if for nothing else. She sounds like she just strolled off the set of The Gillmore Girls and that’s just not spooky.
Kara, we did. And we did. Flippen looney tunes she is. I’m sure all she needs is a rather lovely cocktail to sort her out. With a tiny umbrella in. Oh, you mean the gate ladies, don’t you! I’d offer them a drink and a meal too but they wouldn’t be able to sit and eat it. On account of being too stiff to bend in the middle. And they might relax and find something funny thereby laughing and etching unwanted lines on their dead-eyed faces. Couldn’t have that.
Hangy, it might be an idea to cage her in the corner – bit of local colour, you know. We could pay her by the hour for incanting benevolent incantations all over our regulars.
Spritey, I believe someone saw her fly in one full moon about 30 years ago now when she was a much younger psychic, barely even able to tell her life-lines form her ley-lines. She’s never spoken of family to my knowledge. Oh, apart from the owls.
Conan, you’re right, Gaelic can be a pretty spooky -sounding language, especially if spoken with a frothing mouth and a stereo in the background going Woooooo. Decanting is my favourite kind of canting, howja know?
Mary, I maintain she’d benefit mightily by slurping on some prudent selections from our inventory. Fighting fire with firewater.
Rand’, we’d have the best PTA meetings in town, I’m sure of it. The children could only benefit from the free and fast exchange of ideas when their guardians share a pleasant wine. Tepid coffee and stale donuts isn’t enough inspiration to move beyond having another car-wash to raise funds.
John, only smokily. There’s one about 40 miles away in Malibu and a closer one in Piru and Fillmore. Last year was worse for our area – we could actually see fire up on the mountains then from the house. But So Cal is just a tinder box waiting to go up. We’ve only had a fifth of the average rainfall this year and are in our 7th year of way below average rainfalls. And these Santa Ana winds from the high desert just crisp up everything that isn’t already bone-dry. It’s a bit worrying at times but we just have to live with it and hope for the best.
Jali, you might be right about that, but if only we could get our je ne sais quois to not be quite so clutchy and mad it’d be a bit better. Even if she just toned it down a little to graspy and eccentric. And didn’t say the word “death” quite so often.
Docs, but we didn’t have her evicted. She’s cursing the wrong people. My Shield of ye olde Stornowegians isn’t going to hold out much longer against her spells. She’s worn a hole right through the sheep leather. I’ll have to get out the lorey Sword of The Siarachs soon and I don’t want to have to do that. Too much blood has been shed in this town.
Medbh, Oooh, I like it! The law of three, eh? It’s beautifully vague and menacing. I think I shall wear black for my counter-cursing. With purple and silver bits on – tasteful, of course. I’ll practice in front of the mirror too to enhance the archness of my eyebrows. Hot damn, I could get into the cursing life-style very easily, i think. The costuming’s great and you can make up your own hours. Triff!
October 25th, 2007 at 7:23 am
Odd, I put two L,s in Gilmore also, not altogether sure what that means, if anything. But, you will have noticed that there is only one blonde in the Gilmore girls, that might explain the lack of lethal zizz.
October 25th, 2007 at 11:54 am
Ochone ochone
October 25th, 2007 at 4:15 pm
Doesn’t she know what’s she’s taking on? Tell her you’ll have her in a wicker basket on a light bonfire before she can say “Edward Woodward”
Hope you’re not near any of those real fires BTW!
October 25th, 2007 at 6:10 pm
I couldn’t find OJ on Kanani’s map so am trusting you are well away from harm.
October 25th, 2007 at 9:28 pm
Repeat these two words while squirting:
Cillit! Bang!
It cows my dogs, dogs my cows and all my coins are shiny.
October 26th, 2007 at 12:16 am
Get a waiter to do it. We have no fear and will do anything for minimum wage, anything…..
October 26th, 2007 at 6:11 pm
Vince, I don’t know about blondes being more lethal, but this dusty-haired brunette psychic woman is trying her very, very sub-lethal best. Bless.
Doccy, Waily! Waily!
Apprentice, I could warble a Gaelic psalm to her. That should fill her with chill dread and lasting. It did to me as a child. I wouldn’t get it at all right of course, but she won’t have a clue. Lots of rolled rrrs and hard Scottish “chs” should do fine. And rolling eyeballs of course, but I’m a champ at them.
Pat, we are safe from singeing at the moment, and it looks like the winds are improving and staring to give the fire-fighters a break. I made the same mistake when I first read it but Ojai is pronounced “Oh-hi” in accordance with the Spanish and Chumash Indian history of the area. I have a pal who for a long time told people I lived in The Big Juice.
Bock, perfect! I’m looking for exactly that – something to dog a cow!
Manuel, we have to call waiters and waitresses “servers” out here, which to my mind sounds terrible. I’d far rather be waited upon than served. I amn’t a bloody tennis ball.
October 26th, 2007 at 6:20 pm
My anti-virus keeps throwing up warnings at me when I visit your site. Have you added anything new? Is there anything you can check?
October 26th, 2007 at 6:58 pm
Kim, I’m on it. Bock and Sneezy alerted me to it too. I ran a McAfee scan and everything looked fine so I’m checking it out with Yahoo who host my site. I emailed their help department and should get a response in 24 hours. I don’t know what the problem is.