Thursday, December 8, 2011

My Memoirs



My Move [Pass Through] Through the Greater Eugene/Springfield Metropolitan Area: Fucking Eugene They Fucking Drink Fucking heavy up here. Hunh Unc Jim?

Chapter One
The Welcome Inn

The Dump

            As mom I hastily drove around trying not to turndown a one way we stumbled upon this nice looking place with an upper middle, Arab family running the operation. They were nice people. They just had towels, older than my mother. So I woke up with the sleeping bag half off, we didn’t sleep underneath the covers. I start to load the car, a slightly inebriated young individual, call to his buddy.

“Ya, got a straw bro?”

            I slam the door as Mom and I burst into laughter followed by an exchange of some drug using stories. It was an especially crisp October afternoon. I don’t recall which day of the week. I do remember loading the car up as quick as possible so we could leave this dump.
            As I pulled into the Ye Old Pancake house, my mouth watered in anticipation for the chocolate pancakes I would have for the second time. Mom was an especially angry bird this morning; she grew weary of the small town diner while yearning for her city by the bay. I was confident in my decision to up and leave.

“Fuck em, I played that shit out. 15 minutes from any bridge come on man. Fuck the bay.”

            As my anger subsided and the sugar from the orange juice feed my sugar addiction, my mom pleaded for me to give up my plans to move out of state. I disregarded these concerns and spoke about the big Duck game coming up. Stanford was hot coming in. People were sleeping on the Ducks. Locals knew though, a stomping was in quick order. They were faster and stronger and well coached. The tree was burnt, early and often. As we ate as quickly as possible our yearning for the northwest coast was coming on like some good ecstasy. The drug yearning grew as I though about using. We tipped the waitress who was sexy and taller than me. I grabbed a copy of Eugene weekly, I laughed as I saw the big cannabis leaf on the cover.
            As we headed to the coast, I cracked the sun roof in my middle class Ford Focus. I sparked a blunt up as mom sped up. My head moved in a circle as I looked around for rollers and troopers.

“GUN IT” I said as the coast to the coast seemed clear. The ZTS quickly picked up speed as we moved toward the northwest coast. I grabbed the SLR from the back seat. I looked through the sun roof, nothing but sunny skies.
“It’s beautiful here when it’s not raining” Mom expressed her happiness with the journey to the coast.  
“Here’s our buddy again, let’s pick him up!” I proclaimed as mom shot me with a, you’re kidding look. His sign read “COAST” scruffy and in need of help I handed him the rest of the change in my pocket and said,
“Be easy homey.”
Chapter 2

The Second One


As I took a drag from the Newport that dangled from my lip, the cake came on quick. It is in hindsight, that I knew I should have waited a few hours and let the cannabis wear off a bit.

“All right Unc Jim, I’m gonna get up out here”

I glanced at my phone, it read 8:03. Early enough, I thought. I turned the volume all the way to the right, the two tens blared some rap music. I hit the gas and turned the wheel a bit. Getting loose is what they called it in the Bay. Dirt and dust flew up and my car came to a sideways stop. I straightened her up and gunned it and quickly stopping while I peaked out of the intersection. The ride through Eugene was quick, oddly enough. As I punched it, my exit was quickly approaching. I slowed down, hit the signal. The next thing I remember was seeing an officer of the law make a sharp u turn and get behind me. I thought,

“Fuck it, get your money worth, you could loose this clown. No, I am no criminal. I am just a pot smoker who loves to drive.”

“May I have your license and registration please?” The officer pronounced his presence with authority.

Damn the special cop who gave the second sobriety test. I though deeply.

“It’s an information game, don’t give them any. Another night in jail won’t be that bad”
It smells like trees, there’s no disputing that.
“Yes sir I smoked marijuana a few hours ago. No I will not take your ‘sobriety’ test.”
“You’re under arrest” said the arresting officer.
“Whatever” I muttered as I mentality prepared for my second night in jail in less than two weeks.
“At least it aint John George,” we both chuckled as he remembered my story from the first arrest. 

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