View from Sentinel Hill, just behind Alex's house
Blasphemy? Yes and no. It was like this: I spent my 24th birthday at a place called the Meat Rack in Tucson with Alex, my gracious host in town, God and whoever else happened to be around. God gave me the tour of his bar. We started off in his office. In lieu of a desk, he had a medieval rack, where the unlucky victim's head and hands are bound between heavy boards. He had a gynecologist's chair. He had a sex swing. There was no filing cabinet or telephone but there was a buzzer that could be rung from inside to alert the whole bar when whoever might have been unlucky enough to have been seduced into the "office" walked out. A walk of shame buzzer.
With a bright red face that reminded me of Popeye, he rasped through the tour in rapid-fire and without stopping, leaving his audience struggling to catch one bit of hilarity as they overcame the giggles from the last. The whole bar was a monument to God. Here's God with Reagan. Here's God with Jenna Jamison. My personal favorite was the AA Certificate of Completion wall. If you bring him your Alcoholic's Anonymous certificate, he'll
Personalized for the Birthday Boy. (Notice the month and day are wrong)
give you a free drink. I guess one kid's parents had spent 80-Grand getting him sober and God cracked him within hours of his discharge from rehab. When the tour was all done, I was handed a keychain with God's likeness on it and the enscription "I'll ruin your life"
For a moment as I laid on Alex's air mattress looking at it, I thought it might have been true. The morning after - indeed the whole day - was something of a write off. If it wasn't for that night I would never have spent 10 days in Tucson. TEN DAYS! That's right... That Pittsburgh crew, they'll just suck you in. Well, sort of....
I was already in quite a state when I arrived in Tucson. Staying up till dawn after was not a great idea. I just deflated. There had been a long string of exhausting days leading up to it (see previous post) and I guess I ran to till the bottom fell out. Quite literally. When I rolled into Tucson my engine was gushing oil out the cracked engine case. Long story short but the crack had either grown or just turned into more of a problem in the desert heat (probably both). Upon futher parousal, the 6500 Km that had brought me to Tucson had, believe it or not, put the hurt on ol' Baby. She was fraught with liesions, tumors and infections of varying degrees of severity. Electrical short-outs, bolts vibrated loose or dull, valves out of adjustment and rust. Turned out that those were the lesser of the evils plaguing my poor baby. So I hung around to sort out the bugs, level out and work on the blog. well, anyway, that's my excuse.
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