Wednesday, February 2, 2011

You know that you know that you know

You know you know.

Dallas, Texas; "the red light district."  2:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning.  lost.

     We'd been cruising the set for hours, and "the set" was shut down.  Dead.  It's the only time that I'd ever seen it like that.  Me and Kev had lost hope of finding anything suitable, and we were out of the shit.

     We started to notice that everywhere we'd went we 'd seen the same cars.  We started taking the side roads to see if the situation changed any.  It didn't.

     I'd gotten us lost.  We needed gas.  I found a station.

     There was a 50ish Black man fueling a blue Ford Explorer at a pump.  I asked him, "how do I get back to I-35?"  He answered, and without any prompting told me how to get back to my hometown.

Guys, I think I get your point!

     I spent the next two years noticing Ford explorers, and little white mini-vans following me everywhere I went.

     Ten or more years ago I was at another friend's house on a fine afternoon.  An old Winnebago went down the road .  It had four to seven visible antennas sticking off the roof .
"Did you see that?"  He'd asked.
"No," meaning "yes, but what did you mean?"
"The surveillance truck."

They could have done better than that. . . . .

     Last summer, same friend's house, before noon.  We were outside in one of his trucks, talking, watching.  Feverish minds.  Hyper alert.  Down the road about a hundred yards a bucket truck that LOOKED like a TXU truck had set up next to a power pole.  There were no problems with the power in the area.  There were no markings on the truck.  No insignia.  No nothing.
"Are you seeing this shit?"
"Uh huh," I'd said, "next we'll be hearing those owls that hoot during the daytime again."
"That's some hoe ass shit!  Let's go back inside for a while."

Guys, I know that you all can do much better than that. 

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