Bodies pressed against each other, barely any room to move let alone dance. The music is crystal and electronic, about 4 billion beats a minute and the guy actually mixed in “Jail House Rock” from Elvis. Oh wait, that was the other area of electronic undulation. It was the Burnal Equinox, the time between the last Man burning and the next Man to burn. It was held in San Francisco and I will relate to you the events as they transpired.
The Ford we have, resurrected and ready, somewhat, was traveling fine and dandy thank you very much, when it started to not. So much. It started to have the hitching and weird running and then fine then running then fine, but after the “pedal to the metal” it seemed to still suck. So, that which does not stop me makes me closer to the equinox, I continued out and up, as far as the coast and north are, to the land that rises and falls in very close increments. The land of San Francisco.
On the way I stopped off at a buddy’s, the one that bought the bar then lost the bar that is out in the boondocks, to acknowledge that I was going to be there, at some point in the morningishness, and continued down the road. Well, after a bit of the interplanetary frop that is.
Now for some reason I didn’t get gas before I went up there, and on the way back I was sweating it hard. When I finally made it to a gas station, a small one just outside of Kings City, I filled up the tank. After filling it up I found that I had about a half a tank left before it was finally empty. So after that, it was back to the road and where she took me.
