Friday evening I came home and started downloading my Danzig mp3s. It started pouring down rain outside. I mean it was coming down in sheets. Around 7:30, we left to have dinner with Carl and Mindi. After dinner, El and I went to Bum’s Sports Bar for a couple beers. There was a young band from Dallas playing that night, so the joint was packed with high school kids with big “M”s (for minor) written on their hands with magic marker. El and I thought that Philip would have had a nice time there… We had a good time anyway. We didn’t stay very long.
We got home a little before midnight and El talked me into going into our apartment complex’s communal hot tub. Having rained as much as it did ealier that evening, there wasn’t much heat to the hot tub. We stayed in the small, warm pool of other people’s germs long enough to get pruney, then headed home to get some sleep.
I woke up relatively early on Saturday to go on a much needed motorcycle ride. My plan was to get somewhat lost and eventually find myself in Killeen where I would stop at the local motorcycle shop. I got lost alright, and I wound up nowhere near Killeen. I’m used to getting lost in the hill country near Austin, where you can drive a good ways and you’ll eventually come upon a really nice neighborhood, a river, a golf course or a lake. Well, on this Saturday, I found myself coming upon blacktop roads, scattered mobil home communities, baron land occupied by leaf-eating goats and more blacktop roads. I tried to head towards what I thought was south by way of a secluded road. While still hoping to make my way to Killeen, I guess I had travelled far enough east to where I was greeted by an entrance to Ft. Hood. The posted sign deterred me from taking that route.
So, I turned around and took the same boring way back home. Since I had already experienced this route, I crossed my left leg over my gas tank and started singing to myself. I rode almost 60 miles. A boring ride, but a nice and therapeutic one nonetheless.
I came home to find that the guy in the mirror had a pretty nice shade of red on his face… I hadn’t expected to be out that long - guess I should have slapped on some sunscreen.
El and I spent most of the day geeking out in front of our respective computers, mostly to download mp3s. El decided that she wanted pizza for dinner, so we went to HEB and bought the ingredients I needed for a veggy pizza. Turned out pretty good - onion, tomato, bell pepper, garlic - jalepenos and green olives on my side. Then we watched a movie and went to bed.
Sunday was a lazy day - watered the plants, I cooked some pork chops and potatoes, downloaded more mp3s, watched another movie.
So that was our weekend. Once again, Monday reared its ugly head too soon.
I saw a wreck on my way into work this morning. Some moron driving a blue, newer model Suburban flagrantly ran a red light at the intersection of Loop 363 and S. 31st. An old white pickup truck was this first off the line from the middle lane as the light turned green. He apparently couldn’t see the Suburban as there was another pickup truck to his left, blocking the view. I was two cars behind this truck. He pinged the passenger side quarter panel on the Suburban and knocked it halfway into the other lane.
I immediately laughed after I could determine that nobody was hurt. The light stayed green while everyone paused in the standard “I just witnessed a wreck” dumbfounded state. Traffic finally started to pass through the light. I went ahead and continued on my route to work. As I was passing the white truck that was the ‘victim’, an old man in tight Wranglers and a cowboy hat got out of his truck, looked towards the Suburban and exclaimed: “Bashturd” [image Will Farrell's voice impression of George W. Bush]. One more good thing about riding a motorcycle - you can see, smell and hear everything. I didn’t look back, but I’m sure the old man’s good ol’ pickup truck didn’t even receive a battle scar. The Suburban - I’m sure that’ll cost a pretty penny.
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