Tour

The reason we were gone so long is because we went to see Dave's parents. I just got tired of seeing him beg for information in the comments here, so we loaded up and off we went. I guess we were tired of being here, I don't know. The notion that your life is proscribed is the hardest thing to deal with, for me. Anyway it took us forever to get to Sea Cliff, and we couldn't remember exactly where we needed to go anyway. Every other exit it seemed there was a checkpoint, and they weren't exactly comfortable with letting anyone through regardless of your explanation, unless you were an 18-wheeler carrying food or a tanker. After what seemed like a couple of hours they just started waving people off the road onto an exit ramp, and then from there into a big lot next to a Target--apparently there'd been a rev-related accident and their SOP is to clear the roads so it doesn't spread and leave hundreds of stranded cars and kill the road. That is actually where we spent the first night, which scared us to death. I'm not sure how concentrating everyone into a lot is any safer than leaving everyone stranded on the road. It's safer for the road, I guess.

And you know what? I'm tired of writing this out because the ending just fucking sucks. When I emailed Dave to tell him I sat there for hours, literally hours, trying to think of how to put it. I never thought I'd write a message like that, ever. I still remember when I'd go over to their house in Garden City and chit-chat with Mrs. G. about politics, and how she was so far out, bless her, that she made me look like Pat Buchanan. I remember Mr. G.'s reaction the time I clogged their toilet and they didn't have a plunger in the house. I remember getting stoned and watching Texas Chainsaw, playing D&D and drinking Sam Adams, being young in the home of a family that no longer exists. Gone, wiped out, devoured by tragedy.