Wow. Careful what you wish for, as Corbett used to say. I’m so overloaded with adventure and sleep deprivation right now, a roller coaster of bad luck and the continual pleasant strangers, sleep deprivation, there’s no way I can capture it all in a post.

So you get part of a narrative poem:

Four day late pick up, insomnia kicks in.
Finally the call,
and when a moped has been repo-ed from a crackhead who wouldn’t pay,
I momentarily consider taking that with the money I have rather than to get on board.
But I must get on board - Sancho Panza can’t let Don Quixote roam alone…
in fact he bankrolls the first leg, because the nest egg is in Myrtle Beach.
DQ lost the cell phone two weeks ago, so lots of contact #’s are gone, and the car does not have wifi (part of my tardy reports)

Up to the mountains, loose ends to tie up:
portraits on a Cherokee man and the cop Garcia clone from Reno 911
beers and industrial strength lortab ride on to Helen,
sell the van and now the egg is 900
but must get mamas ring out of hawk,
and fees to pay on the storage space - both monetary and emotional.
More drinking with Scuba and a final “fuck you” toast to the locals in Bavaria.
Dropped $40 on shots for strange and the princess bitch bartender, daughter of Frenchy.

I am the money man, the fixer, I carry the roll.

He’s so psyched just to hit the SC line, clearly not picturing the entire thing accurately,
but then, neither am I.
Visit and shoot a shop in Anderson
“Fuck it dude, let’s just plow on to Myrtle Bch tonight”
“Yeah. Let’s ride”
a semi bungled short cut through the state roads
but all is mirth and potential.
Steve awaits us, steve who has lined up the party
16 wanting ink
our next, very needed bankroll
I talk with Steve and we will call him a half hour from town.
But we linger and shoot footage
and eat
and the bad short cut
and It’s after midnight by the time we hit the beach.
Next time, Steve don’t answer
but we pull an all-nighter
And the strip is empty and ours at night
Dennys and Lobster van and a scratchy eye that might need tending to if the $ ever comes,
keeping the car safe, watching the sun rise over the ocean.

And then the sun is well high
as I cover my dosing patron with a beach umbrella and my mind unravels
and fucko Steve still has yet to call.
In search of an address he gave
which the GPS seems not to know.
All the hotels want three days commitments for too much, “weekend” bullshit.

Something might be wrong

(more soon)