The Faux Pas Press #29: Monterey

THE FAUX PAS PRESS #29

By Jason Fresh

13 APRIL 2010

I come to the Great City of Monterey because I have to – not just because the Federal Government requires but because I require it. I come to Monterey because I have to. There are not many other places in the Land of the Brave for an insightful person to find himself. Where else does he go?

There are not too many places on this planet where the disenfranchised American geek can swim around in a foreign language extravaganza. I can think of few schools besides DLI that pay the individual, board him, and teach him all at once. For a curious, academically able, socially awkward student from Allen, Texas or Pueblo, Colorado, Monterey and the Defense Language Institute provide what he may very well have been searching for his entire life: a community of pretentious but well-intentioned foreign language snobs, a marketable skill, and a fucking pay check. If he is successful at DLI, he will also have time to wonder the historic, ghostly corners of this ancient Mexican capital. Doing so will provide him answers to his questions and questions to his answers. A never-ending cycle of completion.

I found my ghosts here. I faced every last demon here. I danced my own dance here.

The man wearing a stripped green shirt is talking to himself and eating spaghetti. He uses plenty of salt and pepper. There is only one barista I know of in the Monterey Bay who can handle him, only one who doesn’t have to make funny hand signals or dance a Samba to get an intelligible response. That same barista served me a coffee in a green plastic cup to match my green pencil pouch. Look at me. I’m so hip and green living in Monterey. Everybody has got a fucking green bag. Oh, shit. I hope that someone with a green bag doesn’t see me writing this and peg me for the asshole that I am.

I listen to post-rock music here. Like a soundtrack to something fantastic that never happens. Like an impossible connection I’ve been trying to make since I came here. If completion is what you’re look for then come to Monterey. Some girl will call you beautiful a couple of time because she is lonely, you’ll face your worst fears an turn them to bravery, you’ll go deeper into the red kelp of the Pacific Coast, and you might even impregnate a woman who will become your wife, leaving all kinds of loose ends to tie up so they won’t haunt you for the rest of your life.

There also people to avoid here. I swear that this black, homeless, fat man among hippies, this guy that walks these streets has lost like 200lbs. Homeless people can’t afford to be fat when the Everyman is skinny. The Everyman is skinny – at least here in Monterey. It doesn’t really send a good message when times are tough for America – being a fat, homeless man in Monterey. I’ve lost weight since I came here. Not too much weight. But I figured the homeless are losing weight – so should I. I guess I come to Monterey because I have to. I need it. I need me some Monterey. 58 days sober today. Won’t be throwing them back at The Mucky Duck though – might go there for 50% off of appetizers.