My initial plan for this country was some glorious trek from North to South, East to West. Stopping at all treasures on the way. Though on Friday I found out that it was Mardi Gras in New Orleans this week coming.
I threw my green conscience out the window, thought bollocks to it, and booked a flight to New Orleans.
I'm sat at Newark airport, waiting for a plane, after being singled out in a crowd of fifty for "further screening". This involves taking my clothes off and being touched. Luckily they didn't find all that coke up my ass.
The bus here took two and a half hours. Its only twenty miles or so. I was sat next to a girl my age, so we talked. She had large breasts and a busy smile. Her teeth were everywhere. Everywhere. She spoke loudly and bits of spit nested in the corners of her lips. Whenever this happened I had to look out the window.
We started talking about Music and where we were going, though it only took her about 20 minutes to really piss me off:
"So, I'm going home to visit my parents" She drawls.
"Oh, that's nice. Any reason in particular?"
"Yeah. I'm having an abortion"
"Oh" I weakly reply.
"It's ok. It's my fourth"
Fourth? Fourth? Are you fucking kidding me?!
"Shit, that's pretty heavy. Does the guy know?"
"Hell no! He lives in Montreal. It's his best friend's"
Right, so I'm sat next to New York's queen of chav. I can't believe how fucking candidly she's telling me all this shit.
"I never tell the guys. It just makes it so much harder. Y'know?"
No. I.don't.fucking.know.
I felt like sticking my fingers down my throat and puking all over her tits and face. Instead, I just told her I was tired. I put my headphones in, glared out the window and thought about sex. Not with her. Next time she fucks without rubber I hope she has to keep her deformed baby AND gets AIDS. Bitch.
On the journey I listened to Blonde Redhead, M83, Venice is sinking and Enablers. I would say I listened to 'subterranean homesick blues' as well, but I'm not a fucking cliche. Right?
I did listen to 'Like a rolling stone' though.
1 comment:
i had a similar m83-assisted bus journey today. it's comforting to know (in a pretty maudlin way) that even though you're off galavanting and i was only on the 98 to salford, that even on the other side of the world you can guarantee to be accompanied along your travels by some absolute scummers.
the above sentence is so badly put together it's doing my actual head in. bed.
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