I'm bored, so, story time!:
In the key of Gonzo journalism...
I had a good few days at a buddy's house. We took a long trip up The Mall of America.
Before that, we got lost in a town with a strange name. Started with an 'M'. "Muddlewater" or something.
In Muddlewater, we stopped at a small cafe, had some coffee and some breakfast. Our energy was harvesting for the road ahead. We scribbled strange notes on a chalk board next to the table. My contribution was "Know Thy Self". My buddy's was, "This Too Shall pass". Then we hopped next door over to the cigar lounge where I was then kicked out for not having the proper identification.
Then onto a long ride straight (well, pretty much) to the MOA. My friend drives like a damn maniac, but I'm used to it by now. Speeds like a cocaine fiend. Nearly rear-ends a guy in front of us - and would have, had I not told him to immediately fix his attention on the damn road. People my age suck a driving. They think they're invincible or something.
Anywho - Mall of America was fun. Beautiful women everywhere. Redheads and blondes and brunettes. Plenty of long-legs wandering around. We did some considerable looking.
Then we visited all the shops we were interested in. I picked up some CD's: John Coltrane, Bob Dylan, TOOL. A vinyl record of the Misfits. A few t-shirts (Night of the Living Dead and one TOOL). Picked up one badass zombie coffee mug with an ax in its head (which functions as a handle).
Getting out of there was a mess. We decided to pick up some cold stone ice cream before we left. So I got a cup with a mound of vanilla ice cream with Twix and butter-finger chocolates mixed in. We decided we would take our stuff to the car, promptly finish our deserts, and then head home. Turns out, we didn't quite know the way to the nearest exit (MOA is a large place - a near perfect alternative setting for Romero's Dawn of the Dead). So, due to our folly of finding our way out, my ice cream started melting all over the side of my hand. It was difficult to fix this, because I was also busy holding my shopping bags and trying not to lose anything. We rode the escalators down to the first floor, found the door, exited.
We were greeted with heavy rain droplets and a bit of snow. Damn!
We rushed on toward the parking lot. Ice cream now dripping everywhere. I futively licked the sides of my ice cream mound (now turning into vanilla goo). Then we finally came to the car, at the far end of the nearest lot. Dripping with cold rain, I immediate got in, sat on my buddy's shopping bag of stuff which he set down in the passenger seat.
"Don't sit on my shit! I've got breakables in there!"
"Well god damn!"
Ice cream droplets littered the fabric of my jeans and I set down my watery plastic shopping bags. I cleaned myself up the best I could. Finished the damn ice cream and was left with sticky hands all the ride home. No stops, no breaks. We were pretty tired and just wanted to get back to the apartment.
After an hour's ride, we made it to a small town (name of which is excluded because I don't want some fiend knowing the exact whereabouts of where I'm located - I could just be a paranoid). Half of the town's electricity was gone. The sky was still heavy with rain and snow. The traffic lights weren't on at all, so everyone at the intersections had to co-operate using their basic sense of logic and timing. As it turns out, there wasn't much of that to be found. It was a mess. People were seemingly startled and didn't know when to go, or how to wait. So we were fairly close to being t-boned by an oncoming car. Although I've stated before that my driver is a maniac (which he is), this wasn't our fault this time.
Then we got lost, because my friend likes to do so sometimes.
Then we found a shitty road and drove a reckless thirty miles back to the apartment. Number of times almost in the ditch? By my count, three. But, as the statistics would have it, we were an anomaly. Meaning, we made it safely back. What a pour choice of route. The snow was just wet and terrible.
We followed this sad, maniacal trip to the epicenter of mindless consumerism with getting wasted and playing the board game, "Sorry". I paid for all the alcohol. My main choice of drink was Captain Morgan and Coca-Cola. We ordered a pizza. Feasted. Smoked some Huka, bullshitted the night away, and then soon passed out.
Last edited by The Creature (2014-03-30 02:35:13)