I'm sitting here on my sleeping bag, under a sign at Highway 71 and Green Acres Loop, I figured this would be a good time to go ahead and write my entry for today. First, a little more thought on last night.
Sitting in The Bugle Boy, I just cannot help to think about what an interesting yet small place La Grange is to start this sort of venture. I sat and started thinking about how my story was just beginning and took a look around at the women and men in the room on the other side of their years and I couldn't help but think about all of these people about twenty or thirty years ago when the infamous Chicken Ranch was still open.
You see, not many people move or relocate to La Grange; it is the sort of town that if you were born in it, you'll probably end up dying there too (and if you die there, chances are you were born there too). Needless to say, a majority of the people in that room grew up with La Grange and saw the tainted history behind it. I look at this crowd and wonder which of the women of today were the prostitutes of yesterday. Not in an arousing sense, mind you, but just one of intrigue; that these women and men had, in their own small way, purchased their little slice of history (whether it be through a really special birthday present that welcomed a young man into adulthood, or an old man that received the little bit of human contact before he departed this world). These people have stories, and I could spend a hundred lifetimes listening and enjoying them. But it was late, and I had my own story to start on. As Kerouac said, "the road is life."
That night, I laid out my sleeping bag under the stars and the headlights of vehicles that passed me by on the highway, each with their own destination and reason for seeking it. Over the night, I discovered that no matter how well you think you can handle the weather of your home state, you shouldn't buy the cheaper sleeping bag. I got through the cold weather and awoke the next morning to Skip bundling up his gear and preparing for the day.
After walking a few miles, we stopped at a locally owned breakfast diner and had a decent meal. I sat down to a burrito that had been bathed in melted cheese and raped by eggs, bacon, sausage, cheese, and several other fillings that I don't bring to memory, either by taste or appearance.
Heh, maybe I should be worried about that.
We left down a backroad and traversed it for about five or six miles before the water (which came from a well, apparently) and the burrito that I had disemboweled and pulled from its lake of cheese earlier began to discuss matters that shouldn't be discussed in my stomach and suddenly for obvious (and therefore, undisclosed) reasons, I needed to use a restroom immediately. There weren't any businesses for a few more miles and right after I suggested to Skip that we keep walking, the burrito assumably delivered a sucker-punch to the water. The final round was coming and I was a tad fearful over which consumable would be losing (because it didn't matter who lost, it meant I lost something too).
I went to a residential house and asked them if I could use their restroom and fill up my water bottle. Luckily, they didn't have an issue with that, so everything was appropriately handled and we were off again.
We had reached a total of about nine miles and Skip noticed that I looked weary and suggested to me that I hitch a ride for the rest of the way and wait for him to catch up with me. It sounded reasonable, and I think I set a pretty decent mark for my first day with someone from my physical condition going nine miles on the first day of travel. I stuck out my thumb and waited for a ride. It took about seven or eight minutes then I was lucky enough to be picked up by a man on his way to Austin to see about an ill friend of his (and whether you read this or not, sir, I wish you and your friend the best). We talked for a little while, and once we reached my destination, went our parting ways.
That leads me to here, under a sign and waiting for Skip. I'm going to read Watchmen for a bit, and I'll update a little while later.
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