I'd already posted this and then realized I left something out...I saw the launch of the space shuttle! It was far, far north of me, but it was very visible, nonetheless. It was striking, watching the beast (well, the vapor trail of the beast) streak across the sky. I was listening to a radio program describing the launch as it happened...the announcers were a long distance from the launch, but closer than I was. At any rate, it was very interesting and I was glad I saw it.
I'm sitting in a dump of a Howard Johnson's in Tallahassee, Florida. This dump is costing about $57+ taxes, etc., WITH my AAA discount! Bastards, thieves, scum of the earth! But, at least, I get to get connected with the outside world.
I drove many miles today and could have continued, but I just went through some rain and there's more in the forecast and I didn't want to get caught driving in unknown territory, in the dark, in the rain. So I stopped early. I looked for cheap and found Motel 6 at $39+ but they could not accommodate my internet addiction, so Howard Johnson was the next best thing. There are doors and windows open on many of the rooms, from which I hear occasional howling laughter from the pairs of guys who are sharing the rooms. The guys are large and hairy and strike me as being blue collar workers whose employers pay the very least they can to keep the guys in shelter as they travel the country doing whatever it is they do...muck with oil rigs, fix electric pumps, clean septic systems. Mind you, those are perfectly admirable jobs, but it seems the people to whom those jobs are relegated tend to be the wooly, unkempt wierdos.
I picked up the flashy Mercedes convertible this morning, but have not opened the top. First and foremost, the seller advised that considerable time be spend reading the owner's manual about how to use the convertible, lest the convertible be damaged; it's not hard, he said, but you need to do it just so or risk fucking it up badly. I want the guy's house, and his yacht. I'm satisfied to be in possession of what was once his Mercedes; now, I want the remainder of his loot. He seems like a nice guy and his wife is pleasant, too. He's 75 and is a native Floridian. He also happens to be a rich Floridian. I don't know what he does. I'm guessing he scored big on a major heroin delivery early in his life and has capitalized on it ever since. Not really. But it could be. It really could. More likely that he's a lawyer or a yacht broker or a policeman.
I wasted no time getting on the road, making quick work of finding the Florida Turnpike and heading north. I had lunch along the Turnpike, at a spot created in a wide spot in the median, complete with gas station, several fast-food joints, bathrooms, etc. To my shame, I had a burger and fries from a chain...I don’t recall which one, only that it was not McDonald’s. Then north again, following my written directions obtained from Google maps. By the time I got to Interstate 10, it was getting late in the day and then rain started falling. Hence my stop in Tallahassee. Once I got settled into the bug-ridden Howard Johnson’s, I went in search of food and found a cheap Mexican food place called Los Compadres. I was persuaded to have a margarita on the rocks (it took very little persuasion), which accompanied some enchiladas that tasted OK, just not like Mexican food. Just as I finished dinner, one of my brothers called on my cell to check on progress…and I learned from him that his miseries of late were not caused entirely by food poisoning but by kidney stones, which were all flushed away, with the discomfort, yesterday.
And so, here I sit. I’m going to see what’s on television. I brought no reading material of any kind (idiot), so it’s TV or I’ll try to get some work done via email, etc. The adventure shall continue tomorrow!
No comments:
Post a Comment