Skin Colour or Clothing Taste?

          Finally there!

            It’s been an epic journey. I can’t believe I’ve just been sitting on a bus for the last 41 hours of my life. Ugh. I’m tired, but want to write down some of the amusing things that we made happen on the way.

            Yesterday we decided that Ed had to try his dare at least once for each leg of the journey. The first leg was to Atlanta, which we didn’t get to until this morning! There was an entertaining selection of options for Ed to choose from: an old black lady, several extremely fat plain looking white women, a past-it cowgirl and a shy bookish girl across from us. Faced with the forced choice Ed elected the girl to our side. I have to say, she was actually quite a sweet looking girl and I almost felt sorry for her.

            “Dude,” I whispered, “don’t use the word ‘Turbonegro’. People won’t get the whole prophet thing here, they’ll just shoot us. That’s what happens in America.”

            “Good point, dude.”

            Ed leant shyly across the aisle towards the girl. “Hello,” he said. She glanced nervously at him out of the side of her eyes, she didn’t turn her head or look up. “I’m… a prophet,” Ed continued, pathetically. He seemed extraordinarily nervous. “I’m out for revenge.” The girl looked back at her book and tried earnestly to pretend Ed didn’t exist.

            Ed sat back against the chair and sighed.

            “Dude, what happened? You totally crashed and burned.”

            “I think I’m in love.”

            Those were the last words of the night. I looked up to the heavens, closed my eyes, plugged in my ipod and forced the world to fade away.

 

*

 

            Waking up in transit is a strange experience. Somehow you expect to wake up in a fixed predictable location. This morning I woke in a sweat. The sun was pouring through the windows superheating me in my jumper. I stripped to a t-shirt and took out my book. It was mid morning and only a couple of hours from Atlanta. With the sun reflecting off the white pages of my novel I felt the excitement and life rouse in me again. I smiled and relaxed.

 

*

 

            At Atlanta we finally got out to stretch our legs. We wandered about, looking at plain, ordinary bus station things that were stationary. We were silent, comfortably so, caught in that slothful travelling state.

            Back in the bus I looked around assessing the new crowd for the next leg. Ed would have to pick one of them.

            “The talent is dire,” said Ed. It was true. There didn’t seem to be a single viable option. Even the shy girl had disappeared.

            We left it for an hour or so, to allow everyone to settle, and then Ed made his choice. He picked a black clothed red haired goth girl sitting just behind us at the back, staring out the window with headphones firmly lodged.

            “At least she’ll be a minx if I succeed,” Ed observed.

            He stood and cautiously turned to face her. If he could’ve had a hat in his hands he’d have kneaded it to a pulp.

            “Yes?” she asked, taking out her headphones and staring at him with fashionable disdain.

            “Er… if I told you I was the prophet of a well-equipped black man with a fast car would you sleep with me?”

            “Is the man black by skin colour or clothing taste?” asked the girl, unfazed.

            “Skin colour, I think… that is, he’s a Turbonegro.”

            “Fuck it then,” she said. Suddenly, though, her eyes popped. “Wait! Turbonegro? You should’ve said! I love those guys!”

            Ed turned to me. “Bollocks, I should’ve known,” he said to me, under his breath. He turned back to the girl. “So, will you sleep with me then?”

            “No.”

            “Thank god.”

            “What?”

            “Nothing,” he grinned, and retreated back to his seat. “Didn’t much fancy that,” he confided in me, “did you see her? Not pretty at all up close.”

 

*

 

            So it is that we’ve come to New Orleans. I’m staying at the India House Youth Hostel. I’m amazed at how well put together this whole place is. You’d never guess Katrina had ever struck. It seems lovely here, there’s a real thick exotic air to the place.