Wednesday, November 14, 2007

A last cough of dust from my lungs and we pull out an hour late from El Paso, Texas - that dead museum of cowboys and drunk Indians and arrogant hostile locals - a real no where nightmare and I made up my mind to split but quick, girlfriend. So, 820 miles into the night and your ass hurts like you just been fucked by some randy and hung cock with the annoying meth addicted hag that wouldn't shut up from Tucson to Yuma - but I move onward anyway in my mad quest for adventure and the perfect life. Whatever the hell or wherever the hell that is.
I had taken a desert rat with me and he makes a good travelling companion - no bitching, no whining out of him because that's my department, see? And that's my department anyways, I can bitch like the best of them. So, the night turns into day and the day drags and the bus rumbles on past dry desert and scrub brush and rusted cars of Sanchez Motors under that everlasting blue sky.
We finally run aground onto civilization and my travelling companion is all gee whiz over the shiny clean metropolis where happy polite people stroll the streets not talking to anyone except via cellphones grafted to their ears - "Hey what's attitude you got?" Asks shopkeeper jovially at my friends shirt. It has Attitude on it. "A bad one." He says. "You're on my team."
We walk and wow and see the sights - me playing tour guide - and catch two movies at the grand cineplex. Resident Evil and 30 Days of Night. He liked the first one, I liked the second - no accounting of taste, I rekon. Night progresses and we pitch camp in the Park. But it gets cold and we are tired but the crack heads were in full bloom and they some annoying fuckers.
I have or rather had a friend that worked the night shift at a hotel of previous employment and my head pops an idea - shuffle through the darkness and the kid is working the desk and after blowing me a kiss we get a room free and gratis the night. Orale.
Sunny day next morning and munch at old diner joint for breakfast and them eggs were simply toothsome. Best damn coffee...ever. Spend Sunday walking around and visiting more sites and the night came and it was cold. Cold COLD. Tired and feet sticky and clothes smelt like crotch. Next day shivering in the sunset dawn like terminal junkies but must move forward - down to the marina and lay in the green green grass under warm sun and nap. Black hobo with a Popeye accent rolls up and disco dances on a concrete jetty - "They call me Tata."
Try to land a bunk at the mega-hobo complex but there is a two week wait. Not detered because I am on a mission from God, right? Gobble fattening hobo cuisine and wonder the streets some more silent and furtive in the night and then the rain came. Cold winds blew and we huddled in the concrete with other Fallen Angels passing a crack pipe too and fro. Sloshing with wet feet back towards the Park and sleep on the icy cold concrete benches. Wake up with shivering jags and I break down tired and fully exhausted and call the old man for help. Buckets of tears later and long confessional - "I love you, Son, I just don't accept your lifestyle," - Pops wires me some dough and we hunker down the day and night in a warm junky hotel and it was paradise I tell you.
Zipping across International Lines - first being harassed by American Federal agents leaving the country - I tell you the United Sates is not a free land it is evil and the evil has always been there. Orwell is rolling in his grave.
Past the hawkers and the barkers and the chubby spandex clad hookers grinning so nasty behind silver teeth we make it to a bar and slop down Delicious enchiladas and frosty cervezas and now at this moment with a good alcohol buzz on everything in the universe is all right.

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