On The Run

But first - the rest of the story (last post).
On my way back to the casa, I spotted something out of place. I veered out of my way to investigate and to my chagrin lay a busted up electric office adding machine, a ripped up galvanized garbage can, and a busted lamp of some sort made of white rock. These werent laying side by side but scattered. WHAT WERE THESE THINGS DOING HERE!? It wasnt a matter of dumping and these objects were not remnants of a derelict cabin rotted to the ground. But wait! The brain took about five long seconds to reason it out. My nieghbors upon our moving in these parts about 3 years ago told me, a tornado destroyed the school and ripped up some houses in this small town somewhere in the neighborhood of six years prior. That was the answer. Nature litters too it seems. I'm just glad I didnt find any human bones.

MOVING right along.... (subject change) ....

Public Bathrooms. One of the curses in traveling is the ever dreaded filthy bathroom. I'm not talking a few fuzz bunnies on the floor and some graffiti on the walls. I'm talking, so filthy you would not send your dog in to wizziate on the floor. Toilet backed up and teeming with floaters of unknown age or origins. The terrible part is for me, it always happens when you're in a crises and cant hold it in for the next gas station.

What do you do? As they say, "when you gotta go, you gotta go". I wont go into details here but the last time this happened to me, lets just say, somewhere in Arizona, whoever walked in after me hopefully watched his step. Normally I would have asked the attendant for a plunger or something - Or better yet ran to the next station - however, my package was ready to deliver and there was no time for such luxuries.

NEXT SUBJECT..
Once upon a time when I was perhaps around or close to the age of like 17 - or was it 18? Matters not I guess. Anywho, I had injured my knee (yes, that same one) with what the doctors called a bruised knee - not because it was bruised outside but inside. But that really doesnt matter. What does matter is the fact I was on crutches. We lived in the country on a gravel road.

Well, actually we didnt live on a gravel road, but more off of a gravel road. Actually. Anyhow, I was stuck in the house for three days and I got a wild hair to get out and loaf down the road. I grant you that seeing someone hobbling along on cructhes down a dirt road may look make said hobbler look like he's lost a few marbles, but certainly not dangerous. Down the road a ways a truck pulls up with about 3 rednecks in the cab..,

"What're yew doing out here boy! Yew up to no good or what!? I bet yewr the one who stole suff outta our house" the driver accused.

I looked at him, looked at my crutches, looked at him and the other two possum grinnin' dirty freaks. "Like, where'm I gunna hide the goods? I'm just getting some excercise, fellas."

"Where you live, boy?" He and his redneck buddies all had this seriously mean look.

"Down the road" I answered.

"Liar! We knowed ever body in these parts an yew dont live round here! I suggess yew git out ah here. We dont wanna see your ungly [expletive-expletive] face aroun' here no more. Got that ace!?"

Not being in a strong defensive possition I figured humoring these dangerous idiots was the best order of business. "Sure thing" I told them. Fact was, I had lived there for about four years and never seen these dirt clods till that day, nor after. Since then however, after I rid myself of crutches, I took my walks with a long, hardwood walking stick.