West Coast Love by Tif Marcelo

Author:Tif Marcelo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Star

19

VICTORIA

September 4

“This isn’t happening to me right now.” I cross my legs as I’m being brushed sideways by people. My stomach rumbles while Adrian untangles my mic. Tara and Joel are ten feet away grabbing a shot of the thick pedestrian crowd.

Berkeley’s Telegraph Avenue is packed. The social epicenter of the city, its architecture has hints of old- and new-world charm. The street itself is narrow, with a tall streetlight every half block or so, and between modern businesses are historic buildings, some about a century old. Graffiti and street art mark corner buildings, and currently there are so many people it’s as if half the world is here, both tourists and locals, professionals and students alike. Though not even lunchtime, the vibe is already that of a party, with the Labor Day festival well on its way. The road’s blocked and the white tents of vendors line the streets. A different kind of music blares from every corner, magicians and painters dot the sidewalks, and there is the occasional vendor of ganja brownies.

On a normal day, I would be soaking this up. The environment is eclectic but comfortable, inclusive and exciting. It’s perfect inspiration for my blog. I could probably write three posts about today’s experience.

But not today, not this minute, when I feel like I’m about to puke or worse . . .

Sweat blooms on my back. I switch my weight from one foot to the other, but I can’t get comfortable. In fact, every time I move, I feel the stuff in my belly shift. I’ve got no place to go, no place to escape. In the middle of this crowd, I might as well be in the throes of the ocean.

“You’re not looking too hot right now.” Adrian puts a hand on my shoulder, and it refocuses me.

“Promise not to judge?” I clutch my stomach.

“C’mon, I’d never.”

“I think . . . I think it was the potato salad from Pete and Paul’s Pit.”

His eyebrows lift in acknowledgment.

I nod with a grimace.

“Do you need . . .”

“A bathroom? Yeah. Um, but I think I’m okay right now. Especially if we hurry.” The crowd’s too thick to wade through, and Tara and Joel are already headed back to us. Besides, we didn’t bring the RV with us into the city, anticipating the lack of parking, and with the segment starting in a few minutes, timing could not be worse.

Tara’s scowling when she reaches us. “I think we should film closer to Pete and Paul’s so we don’t have to fight with everyone to get what we need. And we have to try to get it in one shot, since the amount of people here is doubling by the minute.”

At the mention of the vendor’s name, I almost keel over in pain. Instead, I shut my eyes briefly.

“What’s up? Are you worried about the crowd? Don’t you pay them any mind. Look straight into the camera and shut out the noise, and we’ll do the rest, okay?”

“Um, actually I think the guilty party is more in her belly than in her head,” Adrian says.

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