At the bars

"After work the American girls went into the bars and intoxicated themselves and looked for men to have sex with. He knew what talking to them was like. She would ask what he did for a living and where he lived and if he owned his own place and then, if she wasn’t too drunk, she proceeded to test him in more subtle ways. It was a game. If he played the game correctly he would have sex with her. But sometimes her girlfriend came and dragged her off. That was how it worked in America."

My Friday night, as described perfectly by Moraline. She tore a piece of napkin and wrote her number in pen and gave it to me. I did not ask for it. She was pretty and blond and played with her hair, so she was most likely ovulating and desiring intercourse. Despite her looks, she was part of the matrix, a very pretty and unique cinder block pinned between the tonnage of the wall over which I had jumped. So she had to give me her number, as I would not ask for it. Just as I did not ask for her name. She had to tell me. Her friend had to tell me. Her favorite city was Budapest, she said. That's not a very free city, I thought, so you must like charming socialism. She volunteered in the Bronx, the only white girl. When the two girls left I put the scrap of napkin in my back pocket, got their seats and was happy to finally sit down.

Saint Maximin

What on earth has happened to this martyr? You like Metallica? she said. Really? she said. Man, asking a mouse if it like cheese. Ain't got time for that. I got a world to see man, whole globe I'm going to walk around. Man, I'm waving goodbye. You feel real numb around the move or the travel. I know I'm not moving to any place permanent. It's a let down and a relief and a sense of great joy. They say Maximin's got maybe a few years left in him, maybe, maybe so. Man, I bet I wish I had more years once I get out of the matrix. I remember looking deep in to the ridges of the Andes and seeing something out there, a place no one had ever been, the one thing the first man did when he could, the fist thing the first man in the world did when he had had enough, enough food, water, light, heat, for himself, but had enough of wherever it was that he was. Then he gets the cave he always wanted. He builds his home. And then goddamn it, pray that he doesn't think of a woman. He'll think of a woman. He'll go out into the ridges of the Andes to find her. His home might burn down or collapse while he's gone. But he knew it was the journey. He never wanted anything, he never wanted to stay anywhere anyway.