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| Had I stayed on the train for 15 more minutes, I would have been out of Avondale, Louisiana, but, no... |
very nice Union Pacific policeman, who wrote me a summons and then basically said "Unless you have a compelling reason to come back to Avondale, Lousianna, this will just sit here, waiting for you, like a spiders web..." (I'm paraphrasing)
I Lose Howard
I lost Howard. We were on the #94 bus, headed to the truck stop. It is a long ride. I had to pee. I told Howard to go on to the truck stop and I would catch up on the next bus.
I got on the next bus and learned that the closest it came to the truck stop was like 2 and a half miles.
I walked it, expecting to overtake Howard, who would be dragging his feet.
I never saw him.
I decided to blow off the truck stop because it was dead, hopped a train, slept for 6 hours on it; woke up thinking that I might be in Houston or Galveston, because there were oil refinerys around. I sat for 4 hours, waiting for the train to continue on, practicing harmonica, writing this, and brushing out my hair with conditioner etc. I wish I had done any one of those things for 5 minutes longer, because that is how long after I got off the train that the train started moving. Meanwhile I was being strip searched by rail cops as I saw it pull off...I am in Westwego, I haven't made it far from New Orleans.....more tomorrow...
Tonight, I will sleep somewhere, try to get a digital camera, hoping that I can get one that only takes pictures and isn't a phone and a calendar and a tweeter all rolled into one; for about 30 bucks.
I am spoiled by (and my readers, too) the 3 megapixel quality that I had grown accustomed to with the Sprint LG phone. I don't think I want to settle for less.
At this point, I NEED to hitch-hike, at least untill I am out of Louisiana, or, out of the nice officers jurisdiction.
I was happy to have a bag with no marijuana, not even one picture of Marilynn Monroe posing topless, no weapons except pepper spray and a Crown Royal bag full (but emptying at an alarming rate) of coins, which doesn't appear to be a weapon, unless I casually swing it around in front of the cop like it was a pair of numchucks...
I will sleep somewhere tonight, in Westwego, Louisiana...or I might try to walk to the Wal-Mart and get some kind of digital camera...for the sake of my blog readers, if for no other reason.
I will have my thumb out on Route 90 west, 360 miles out of Houston, and 560 miles out of San Antonio.
I have no idea if Howard thought that I had ditched him; and if he is going to continue on to San Antonio without me.
I have to admit that it would have been a very clever way to get rid of the guy "I need to take a leak so bad, I'm getting off the bus...just go to the truck stop and I'll catch up to you" and then, there IS no truck stop, according to the bus driver on the #94 line which I took (it was so far off her route that she didn't even know it was there, until I mentioned that there was a casino and a bar there. Oh, the video poker place...that's WAY down that way...you should have gotten off 3 miles back!
Wow. You're moving. I thought you might never get out of NOLA.
ReplyDeleteFrankly, I think you will do better (a) alone and (b) hitch-hiking. Your guitar will go a long way toward good will, tell 'em you're headed out to California to pick fruit and sing songs about the WPA or something. Anything.
As I've mentioned, you've been riding friendly trains out there in the NOLA area, but all I've read says it's a lot rougher out West here. Meanwhile, your guitar-carrying ass ought to be more welcome the closer you get to here.