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1999 North Carolina

Back to Greensboro

 

I slept as badly as I knew I would. On the way out of town, we visited Carolina Beach and stopped at a barbecue joint in Garner. I grabbed refrigerator magnets and cheap cigarettes at a huge outlet in Burlington. And we came home.

Dinner at the J&S Cafeteria (see a trend here?) and my Dad and I went back to Harris-Teeter so I could get more provisions. I washed clothes.

Back to SF

Lunch at the cafeteria in Burlington, and off to Raleigh and the airport. We said hurried goodbyes and I checked in at the front desk. At the metal detector, a guard (LIzzie Wright is her name, by the way) wouldn’t let me go through with my fake bullet necklace.

I wasn’t really so upset that she stopped me (even though she admitted she new it was nothing dangerous). I was upset that she was so rude and hateful about it, refusing to even let me sit it down while I went to get an envelope to mail it to myself. She obviously wasn’t concerned that it would explode or anything, otherwise she would have been worried when I threw it in the trash. Which I did, since I I didn’t have time to argue anymore.

This wasn’t a security risk and she knew it (she even said so). She just didn’t want to have her fat ass bothered by actually helping someone resolve a situation. Lizzie was nothing but a bitch and a control freak. Period. So I threw it away, thanked Lizzie for her southern hospitality, and got on the plane.

After paying $120 for long-term parking (cheaper than the tickets I would have gotten otherwise), I got on the freeway toward San Francisco. I flipped off two people on the way home, got tailgated three times, and got cut off twice. I suddenly had a strange longing to be back on Merritt Drive in Greensboro with its quaint little “aggressive driving enforcement area” signs.

Welcome home.

Trip Post-mortem

Home again. Bags unpacked. Clothes put away. Car stowed in a relatively legal parking space. Ears still popping from the flight.

Coming shortly, essays and photos related to:

  • Squirrel shit.
  • Raccoons.
  • Okra, collard greens, and sweet tea.
  • A party in Dennis Hopper’s place which Linda Lavin and I were at.
  • Sleeping in the same motel room with my parents.
  • Condos, apartments, and even houses I could afford.
  • Thoroughly adorable Bosnian young’uns.
  • The Raleigh-Durham airport and the evils of air travel.
  • A 50-year-old supermarket on Walker Avenue.
  • Mom and Dad’s anniversary party.
  • The iMac.
  • Tearooms (or lack thereof).
  • Cheap cigarettes.
  • How much I don’t want to live in San Francisco anymore.

But I’m tired, so all of this will have to wait. I wouldn’t count on a lot of email responses for a couple more days either, but I’ll be working on it. Soon…