Road Blogger

Five, six, seven, eight, the sweat oozes from my pores. Women turns first, then the man and our hands are crossed with the man’s right hand holding the woman’s left hand over the top of our other hands where the women’s right holds man’s left. The moisture mingles with the movement of our bodies. Our brains register the sequences with rythms. We convene at a Tapas Bar called Appertivos and it all leads a quench of our thirst with wine. It is called “Appertivo” with delicious Tapas-Spanish finger food.

It’s dark here with voluminous flights of wine flowing down the gullet to wash the tapas down. Our talk is bold and brash enough to impress the woman with the tight green bodice and the intricate embroidery curving over the natural roll of her hills. “Vollipoce is red and deep with a light oak-"it’s my favorite" she says with the garlic bread and fried squid. She wants us to drink her favorite wine and we buckle to the roll of her sensuality. Our mouths say yes and our high agrees.

Another woman enters “Appertivo” and rushes to the bar which we have named “Bizarre Experiences”. Ken the owner deftly moves in to confront her and lead her and her flowers so she would sell away from the patrons. She turns to nail Ken with her Walkman and drops to the floor screaming the curdling scream of a woman giving birth. Her arms flail and legs wildly kick. All Ken could do was capture a leg and drag her through the tables with her dress splayed in different directions and her light blue panties flashing colors of embroidered doilies. Out the door she goes and Ken with her. She beats him more and I’ve noticed he hasn’t landed a hand on her with the exception of her being dragged from the premises. Ken is left with a goose egg on his head and I could tell there is collateral damage because it didn't feel right to be intimate with the woman I was with.

My neighbor next door is a strange bird and so I have given her a new name hence she is now known as the Kooky Lady. She is about middle to late fifty with streaky white hair and a scowl for a face. She takes care of an invalid husband named Ram-mee. I’ve never met him and on occasion I’ve seen the Kooky lady take him for a drive. I try not to engage her in conversation because she’ll lock you in and talk and talk and talk and talk. You could be headed somewhere important like work or a date and she’ll continue talking. Finally I’ve made it a point to shut the door and leave in her mid-sentence.

One day, as I was leaving for work, she saw me and all she had was a tee shirt and she ran toward me and all the while tugging at her tee shirt downward. It was cold and I could see the goose pimples rippling with her cellulite among other things I didn't want to see. I could have driven off but there was such urgency in her voice so I stayed to listen. This experience talking to her became one of my regrets since all she wanted was to tell me to hold off on building the fence for two weeks.

Then there is Isaac a friend from the mid-west who was visiting so I gave him the front room to sleep in. This one very early morning the Kooky Lady rang and rang the door bell. She tapped and tapped the window with her keys which finally woke Isaac up! He wrapped a towel around himself and opened the door. She told Isaac that Ram-mee fell off the bed and is on the floor. Isaac told he’d be there in a minute and so he put on his trousers and a tee-shirt. When Isaac walked into her house the pungent smell of urine raked his nose. In the dark light of the house, there were papers strewn everywhere and the rank of food left in the sink almost made him vomit. When he got to their bedroom, Ram-mee was on the floor naked and with the worst body odor imaginable. He lifted Ram-mee upright so the Kooky lady could wipe him up. He began walking backward to their bed and his left foot slipped on something slippery and he fell backward onto the bed with Ram-mee on top of him. Ram-mee’s head grazed his chin and Isaac cringed at the feel of Ram-mees body against him and his wispy hair on his lips. He threw Ramm-mee off of him and adjusted him onto the bed. Isaac spent hours in the shower trying to wash the experience off of him. Even with all the washing, my son Quint smelled something bad at the breakfast table and Isaac had a guilty look about him.

If I haven't shared this already EOTR, I would enjoy your friend ship in real life.

This sounds like fun and my plan is to nail 8 unknown attributes of a perfect lover.

She cares for my soul as I would hers.

Her kisses are bolts of lightning and brushes of velvet flowers and her presences are soft strokes to my heart.

Her touch sears my soul and sends coronal bursts to her cervix and still, I can lose myself with her and still be my crass and irreverent maleness.

She is open to the possibilities.

She’s there to support me when I slay dragons and demons and I would be supportive of her thus, our lives could be tawdry to rich, beautiful and messy but mostly peaceful.

She’s physically and emotionally healthy as we both could possibly be and she would want for me as I would want for her, what ever that is.

Through ravages and rampages of our life we would look out for each other in support and have demonstrated to have carried one another during our utmost weakness.

She shares the spiritual nature like icicles falling from trees against warming shafts of sunlight shining through and illuminating the path with prisms of color or the rare aria that is sparse and tragic evoking painful tears.

I plan to tag virus and neets.