March 11, 2012:
Nightfall was a blur… I got hit by one of those head-aches where I couldn’t see straight and my stomach was doing flips on me. I missed out on the fun. Some romping in Tucson, the Perfect Hippie, the Gorilla, the Buddhaphest, and Camera Kenzy, they had a time. They ain’t remember much of it. Bits and pieces of things spewed were “a rave popped up out of nowhere underneath a medical marijuana collective,” “that cab driver did not love us,” and “man, I was white-girl wasted last night.”
They were shaking off their hangovers with some tacos around the swimming pool when our group of five became eight. Add to us our sound-guy, Alex, our number muncher, Neil, and Crazy Jonny, the one prior referenced in earlier episodes of this text. The Hippie wasn’t shall we say, stoked, on the arrival of Jonny, but it seems they may have come to an understanding creased together through the strumming of guitars.
At any rate, we were eight.
Gorilla’s mother dropped a sage blessing on us. Yes, sage blessing. Yes, the sage was organic. There was a drum, there was sage, there was a Perfect Hippie and a Buddhaphest dancing around a Jam Van blessing things with that sage. Heady does not even tip the ice berg
I took the wheel on this leg of the trip. I only almost crashed into a wall once. There was an incident involving sound-guy Alex, his newly acquainted nemesis, Jonny, and a bottle of piss. Needless to say, Alex broke out the Costco hand sanitizer.
So we said peace to Arizona, what’s up to New Mexico, then boom, we found Texas.
Kenzy hadn’t ever been to a strip club before. We fixed that situation right up. El Paso, everything you had going on inside of the Jaguar Gold Club last night was spectacular. From the fact that we could bring in our own booze, but not bring in a cooler, to the fact that Juarez Mexico bike gang members and Megan’s Law multiple offenders alike, could walk up to the stage and pretend to be rap superstars while they showered their hard earned dollar bills over some of Texas’ finest roses, Jaguar Gold Club, you charmed us.
Then the tequila bottle ran dry. A “dancer” bought us a pickle out of a vending machine, we gave her a pair of Jam Van shades to “dance” with, it was magical, and most importantly, Kenzy had a blast on her special night (ed. note: it was a win-win for everyone)(ed. note: that was the first time I got a pickle out of a vending machine and the first time a stripper ever gave me a dollar back, firsts all around!).
It was a late night hunker down at the Motel Six, and morning was coming quick. Next stop Ft. Stockton, TX.
Other Highlights: Toss up between buying myself a bull-whip, having some tight-pants-band throwing fire-crackers at us, or having a waitress at Applebee’s ask if we want to get bent over and spanked… I guess when I put it that way it’s not much of a toss-up.