The fourth trip she made to the door was as unsuccessful as the previous three. Jingling keys and apologies were no incentive to look hopefully at the door that wouldn't open. And all we needed was a damn couch.
Running out of things to do on the Tuesday before I left for Macon, my boss and I were in the ATF office in beautiful downtown Detroit. We were going to fix a scuffed corner of a vinyl couch. An insurance claim and an inconvienance except for that day. That day, we were struggling for something to do and there were only two of us, which made the situation sad.
The metal pieces for the 36 Chevy hot rod hadn't come in still and probably wouldn't until after the Thanksgiving holidays. Every little bit of extra money was on my mind as were the first mental sketches of a plan for my weekend at home.
And I'd return, I hoped, as a hero fresh from war. A battle between the North and Southern me. This as I stared out the window at a structure being built near Ford Field.
Then the door was opened and we made it through the maze of special agent cubicles with a couch and an afternoon of work, a few more bucks in my pocket. See ya, ATF. I'll never forget your "Incoming threats/Fugitives" inbox or your lobby without chairs, tables or magazines.
We left Dearborn at 6:15am in the cold, in the dark, in my struggle with sleep. A few hours later, we were nearing Cincinnati and getting ready to stop. I enjoyed a cigarette outside and caught some weirdo staring at me from across the street -- also on his smoke break.
In the time awake that followed, a cup of coffee and conversations, we completed one and a half crossword puzzles. It reminds me of Max (Chris Eigeman) in "Kicking and Screaming" who justified his continuous crossword puzzle habit by saying, "I have to come with words and the roots of words. Sometimes in Latin."
There was more sleep and more talking and a couple more stops along the way. It faded into all the asphalt rolling beneath the wheels. Our generally well-spent time on the road came to it's fulfillment when the Lincoln Towncar borrowed from Rachel's dad finally had to negotiate the muddy terrain that is my mother's unpaved driveway.
Sushi was waiting on me, so after the small talk and the exchange of hugs, it was dinner time. Jaime and Jeff were present. His girlfriend and his pal joined us. My sister put highlights in my mom's hair and in the interim, highlighted her own. I tried not to fall asleep because we had plans to bowl.
Jaime freaked when she saw what she'd done to Mom's hair. It didn't look bad to me but the way sis was acting, you'd think she'd given her a mohawk. Mom didn't the see the problem either but began to question her fashion sense.
It was resolved with some hair drying and combing whist dear James franically washed the shit out of her hair.
I rode with my little sister and we got to the bowling alley way before Jeff and his crew. We contemplated taking off for a bar where we could inhabit our more natural environs. Then the teenagers showed up and bowling was on.
Maybe I did and maybe I didn't report already that I bowled my first turkey (three consecutive strikes) during my last trip bowling -- a jaunt with Rod in Michigan. Make no mistake, I was excited. When I bowled my second turkey -- this in the first game on my next trip -- I was equally pleased. That and I crushed my brother (as well as everyone else) despite all his proclaimations of bowling alley superiority.
I lost the second game by two pins to my brother. I had an off game.
Afterward, Jaime and I got our wish. Destination: Beer. Location: Unknown.
First choice was packed with wankers. The second -- not much more appealing -- is a reliable standby.
"I bet I see someone I know in there," I said.
Jaime said she'd already seen someone she knew in the parking lot. Reliable Macon, GA: the stable of people who've never left.
Inside, I found -- to my abject joy -- five people whose company I enjoy. Spirella Bones, High Bird, Jason Virus, Rebecca Tiny and Boss. This was not the expected flurry of faces: sad saps and homebodies. These were my people.
People who mostly didn't recognize me. The beard was unruly and thin, but enough of a disguise to have fooled H-Bird initially.
Montage of things happening.
I made my sister do a shot of whiskey with me since she wasn't quick enough to speak up with her preference. It was a punishment for her and a delight for me. She hasn't had whiskey in two years. The last time was at my demand as well.
Cousin Pat, myself and Jaime went out in Athens. Jaime was the DD. Pat and I had other plans. I became the DD so I could get my sister wasted because I'd never seen her drunk though I'd heard the tales. The impromptu scam was that everytime someone scratched -- we were playing pool -- the offender had to buy her a drink. I started simply with fruit-flavored sensations: lemon-drop, red-headed sluts, etc. Then came my old friend, Jack, and his posse of throat-warming goodness.
Last call came too soon.
Thursday, Thanksgiving.
I woke late but still in time for a cigarette, coffee and a cinnamon bun before showering and the scuttling over to Mammaw's for din-din.
There are usually two places where a person can expect to see me transformed into a politian: church and Mammaw's house. Like the machine I am, I shook hands and offered hugs to one and all, making small talk that touched on all the key points of my relatives' lives.
The feast spread out before us could have fed all the troops in Fallujah. All sorts of meats and vegetables, three kinds of bread and a bakery's worth of desserts. Amazing as always.
My routine is to go last. Respect for Mammaw because she waits until everyone else has gone ahead. Except me. I forced the issue for a decade and now there is no argument. A right as hard-fought as those that women, people of color and homosexuals have now. It isn't complete -- as are none of the above -- but I value its presence all the same.
I left with Jaime so I could get a cigarette as soon as possible -- a remedy for a full tummy. Mom arrived a half hour later with every drop of leftovers in the truck. She actually thought we'd eat again that night.
HA!
My little sister split because she had to work today and I finally cleaned up so I could make my first social appearance of the trip: J'Doh's moms house. Doing so meant sacrifice as I had to leave the comfort of a King of the Hill marathon on F/X. Oh, Hank. You're such a character! And Dale and Bobby and Peggy and Bill and yes, Boomhauer. Damn guys.
In Forsyth at a gas station I waited to be met so I could find this mythical ranch in the sticks of Monroe County. I whiled away the time by studying the comings and goings of cars. Fascinating!
J'Doh came, black haired and all, we chit-chatted, fornicated and threw clay pots a la Ghost.
Wow and then I discovered how SOUTHERN her mom is. And a trip. We watched a bad suspense thriller staring Ashley Judd (throw a rock) with Moms, J's sis, the sister's beau, J and her estanged, Sabotage. The latter disappeared for parts unknown shortly before the sibling and silent partner headed home. Old School went into the VCR and hilarity was relived.
But Tangle's place was breathless in anticipation for me. In the den of dead animal heads, good friends sat drinking: KT the Succubus Shanker, Goose, the Italian Stallion and of course, Tangle My Motherfuckin' Nangle.
Once I pried myself from the endless (but severely enjoyable) conversation in Forsyth and had procured a 12-pack of Icehouse, I made my way down Forrest Street. I couldn't get both feet set on the front lawn before a platinum blond came bounding out of the house with arms wide open. Tangle.
Hugs, cigarettes and story. Yeah. A decision was made to party tonight so I left at 3am and settled into bed. I haven't left the house since.
But I'm going to and soon. I'm late for a very important date at a skate... park.
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