We had planned and decided to hit the roller coaster at Primm again, as a send off to Nevada. We did, and the penny slots, and a few more rum and cokes for me, none for the drivin bruthah, and way too late we got back on the road.
The traffic was horrendous beyond horrendous. From Primm Nevada to Barstow, and the turn off to highway 58, we were hopping up and down happy when the car was able to go faster then ten miles and hour. But for the most part, hours and hours to get a few miles down the road. So it was hours and hours off coast to coast.
We stopped off in Barstow and had to avoid the same homeless guy in the parking lot of an am/pm for a potty stop, and hit the BK there as well. Also cheap and also good food that lasted us all the way home. I actually finished off the whoppers that my bruthah had a day or so later myself.
The journey back was excellent, with a major involved and excitable convo at the end of it involving aliens, Jesus, Christianity, the pathetic religions attached to the excellent ideas of a few people, all in all a good time and something that wiped away the sleepy bugs from our minds. Of course the positively riveting reading on the bathroom walls of the public restrooms was one of the high points. It’s funny, but bathrooms in rest stops actually have different vibes depending on the geographical areas you’re in. when we had headed up to Oregon I was using the facilities at a gas station and was not recognizing the slang on the bathroom walls. Being a California boy born and raised I figured it was something nasty and sexual, yet when I asked the station attendant he clarified that it was an ecological slight against the loggers of the area. And that, of course, just kind of blew my mind. After the trip I was pleased and comfortable to be back in the land of bisexual truckers and liaisons within the love gardens of the rest stop bathrooms.
We got in to the little town in which I dwell and the mist and fog were blanketing the area. It was nice to be back where the heat doesn’t get too crazy and the Vegasness is not so Vegas, but we both missed it and realized the other did as well. Hugs all around, the bruthah made a pit stop and I wandered around the living room, then walked him out to get my frop satchel out of my car and remind him to call me once he got home. I went in, and waited till he called, had a hit or two while I waited, then went upstairs to my family, my bed, and my life.
