A Train Wreck

A Difference Of 30 Cents

Crab Fingers

Howard and I took a bus around noon Thursday, to nearby the rail yard.
We stopped at a convenience store which was very convenient to where we planned to sit and wait for an eastbound train to stop.

The store was actually a smaller store which had moved from the building that sat empty behind it into a bigger building. I recognized the cashier and the fish tank.

Their merchandise only took up about half of the space and there were plenty of empty shelves and coolers, but it seemed to be all of the stuff that used to be in the smaller place.
"Let's go to the Shell station; this place hardly has anything," said Howard.

I explained that the store had twice as much stuff as the tiny Shell station up the street, only it was half empty because it was 4 times larger than the Shell station up the street. I also glanced around and took in the fact that they carried the kind of chips that Howard always buys, and they had hot dogs, which Howard sometimes buys, usually in the early afternoon.

Still not satisfied, Howard said "I'm gonna go to the Shell station," then he put back the can of Old English Malt Liquor that he had in his hand, then walked out, seemingly disgusted.

 He went off to the Shell station and returned 20 minutes later with another can of Old English Malt liquor and some kind of chips.

It turned that the whole issue was the fact that the prices were higher in the half full store, than at the Shell station, where one can barely squeeze through the tiny, crammed isles; a difference of about 30 cents.

Then a train finally stopped at about 3 p.m.

We got on and sat there until about 5 p.m., when it finally began moving towards Mobile; apparently in no hurry to get there; because it stopped several times along the way to let more urgent trains bypass us.

A couple of these stops were in the middle of swamps where mosquitoes were allowed to attack us.

About 12 hours later, we arrived in Mobile, where I decided that we should de-train on the west side, so as to avoid the rail yard.

This left us about a 2 hour walk into town; Howards tongue hanging out and his feet dragging all along the way.

I was happy to see that my food card has been charged up this morning and the balance is $467; but I have only 2 dollars in cash and no cigarettes.

I now look for a safe place to stash a bunch of heavy stuff like these two laptops, if there is such a place in Mobile.

Then I'll walk around looking at the final setting up of the stages for Bayfest and listening to "check, 1, 2....check 1, 2" as I walk around.

Things only look half promising at this point.

Some dude named "Rodeo" has already accosted me,
wanting to introduce me to his nephew, who I was told plays a mean guitar.

The guy said that he knows Willie Nelson and that he was going to arrange it so that myself, along with his nephew would be able to go up and do a sound-check for Willie, all we needed was my guitar (or some similar B.S.)

Rodeo doesn't seem to recall stealing my bike a couple years ago and being a user in general...

And besides, someone who plays a "mean guitar" should have brought one with him from California, or wherever -just in case he ran into his uncles old buddy, Willie Nelson...

He wasn't my first Rodeo.

I ate a bunch of "crab fingers" that someone in New Orleans had given me early Tuesday morning and it didn't sit well with the peanut butter and toaster pastries that I snacked on, while the mosquitoes snacked on me out in the swamp. I guess sometimes it's good to refuse food, even when it's free.