Thursday, 11/25/21 — Erick, OK — I helped shelter a family

Tuesday and Wednesday were both mostly wasted lazy days wondering if it was ever going to stop raining and let me and my tent dry out for once.

I was restless.

Both days I'd driven into Tijeras to the ranger station to refill my water at the water refill station, and then to Triangle Grocery in Cedar Crest for beer and to Shell for gas and more beer, and then to Cabra Coffee at Tom & Jerry’s Plaza next to the post office to download keyloggers and ransomware over their WiFi and drink their delicious Ethiopian pour-overs because sometimes I get pretty tired of Folgers. The back of the canister commands me to awaken my senses with the rich aroma of Folgers classic roast instant coffee crystals—with an easy-open flip top lid! Don't tell me what to do. My senses will awaken when they're damn well ready to. And why are you so excited about your flip top lid? You're doing exclamation points a great disservice here.

Nothing interesting really happened those days. I simply existed and observed the world. Everyone in every direction seemed to be getting younger and younger compared to me. Am I old? If so when did I get that way? I saw an angry middle-aged man in Triangle stomping around rage-shopping without a mask despite the statewide mask mandate, looking like he was about ready to grab a frozen turkey and blunt-force traumatize the first person who challenged his brash rebellion. The cashier who checked me out was unbelievably hot but unfortunately her manner of checking me out was strictly business related, no pleasure at all there. beep, boop. Did you find everything you were looking for today? beep, boop. Your total is $13.12. Cash or credit? The gal at Shell talked me into donating a dollar to the Salvation Army which apparently means I can now say I helped shelter a family, whatever that means. How much shelter would a dollar bill buy if a dollar bill could buy shelter? Probably not much here in the land of the American nightmare. Probably not even a single shingle. Maybe half a shingle once all is said and done and the Salvation Army CEO has taken their cut.

This morning I awoke out of a dream about being in some random bar drinking with strangers when the police showed up and demanded to search my bag and they searched it despite me not consenting to a search and they found a supposedly stolen beer in it which they'd obviously somehow planted there like the good little servers and protectors they are. So they stole my bag from me and I went down to the station to get it back and started screaming profanities at the officers there and they eventually caved and let me have my bag back but not till they'd deliberately dragged out the process as long as possible just to waste my time. I guess that's what happens when you drink with strangers in random bars in your dreams.

Folgers instant. Food. Break camp and drive out of the woods and onto I-40 east all the way out of New Mexico and across the Texas panhandle and past Cadillac Ranch and across the border toward Erick, Oklahoma.

Ten seconds after entering Oklahoma with my speedometer pegged at seventy I went flying past a bastion of cameras erected near the exit to a truck weigh station and one of those creepy little government spying motherfuckers flashed. I wasn't speeding, I wasn't driving recklessly or doing anything at all remotely illegal, so why did they take a picture of me? Goddamn assholes. I reached behind the driver seat, grabbed a beer, cracked it open, and drove the rest of the way to the Sandy Sanders Wildlife Management Area.