Concierge
Corky and the juice pigsWas happy. I got into my car. I decided I was going to leave the city. gonna go south, gonna have a holiday.
So I got in my car and I wondered why it wasn't running and then I realized I didn't have any keys. so I went in the house, found my keys, came back out, started the car, and drove down the high
The highway shimmered like black incense on the bald head of a buddhist monk. I drove down the highway and I got to that big city of miami. the steaming, seedy city - the city that's so seedy, t
Ve trees there. well I went into the nearest hotel and I went up to the door and I said, I'd like a room. then I realized I was outside and I had to go inside. so I went inside and i
Ed up to the desk and I said, I'd like a room, please.
They said allright, and they gave me a key. then I turned around, and there waiting for me was the concierge.
Concierge! (repeated many times)
Well he looked at me, then I looked at him, then he looked back at me, and then I took a putty knife and I rubbed it against his cheeks in a very provocative way. and he turned around and said,
follow me.
So I followed him up the stairs. I went to my room. he opened the door for me, and then he hit me in the back of the head with a big silver shovel. I said, what's that about?
He said, you get it free with the room. who was I to argue?
And I went in. my whole room was covered with soap. little soaps, all over the room, everywhere! in the bed, on the ceiling, everywhere! I said, what's with the soap?
And he says, what, you don't like soap?
I said, no, I'll take it, thanks.
He left the room, and then gave me a stare that almost turned my blood to blood. anyway, I lay down on the bed, and it was a hot day so I was tossing and turning, and tossing and turning. and th
E soap started to lather up and lather up! and I was gonna die! I was gonna suffocate! so I called the front desk, and they sent up the concierge!
Concierge! (repeated many times)
Well he looked at me up and down, and he looked at me like I was four pounds of shit in a two- pound bag. and I looked back at him like he was four pounds of shit in a four-pound bag. and then h
Ked at me like I was six pounds of shit in a pound-and-a-half-bag. and I looked at him like he was 18 kilograms of shit in a thimble. and then I stabbed him in the face. and then he bit my head
Nd put it in a bag. and that's when I fell in love with the concierge.
Concierge! (repeated many times)
Now we live in a small beach house on a small beach on long island - it's a long, small island, but I love it well. and he loves me well. and sometimes we take a trip down the highway that's gli
Ng like a buddhist monk with incense ablaze, and we think of the day we first met - me, and the concierge.
Concierge...