I arrived at a gas station, and was able to use the phone to call Tyler and my wife, Jen. We were able to coordinate a place for me to stay at a nearby hotel. Working with my wife and the bank, I was able to get one of my cards turned back on. My wife transferred me $200 and said, “Make it work.”
I spent $70 on a hotel room. I skipped dinner. The thought of spending it on food when I might need gas to get back home bothered me, and it’s a predicament that I have never really had to live with before.
I took a shower and thought about the trip. Where the aliens good or bad? How come I have never felt what it was like to go without? Why did my wife only give me a few hundred dollars? Doesn’t she know I am trying to make a name for myself as a journalist?
All these thoughts and more went flying through my head. It was a racket that I was barely able to calm down in order to go to sleep.
I woke up about 30 minutes before Tyler was supposed to come over. I watched part of a movie. I don’t remember the name of the movie, but it was one of my favorites.
*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
I open the door, and there stands one of my favorite Facebook friends, and partner in the fight to end the war, Tyler, the Texas boy who spit on the soil of Texas as he left for the Promised Land.
We started chatting. Eventually, he asked, “Do you want a dab?”
“Do you want to do it after we eat?”
“Can we dab, eat, and then dab again?”
“Is that too much dab for you?” He asked.
I looked puzzled, I’m sure. “Not even close. Let’s hit your rig and go eat.”
We had the safety meeting, and then went to the Denny’s next door. We both ordered food and then continued to chat about anything and everything. He talked about finances alot because he is an accountant. I talked about how to avoid law enforcement, shoot guns, and build bombs….well….#BecauseTexas.
We went back to the hotel and sat in the car. He gave me another dab. After about 5 minutes, I started to get paranoid and freak out.
“I don’t feel safe.” I said.
“How so?” He asked.
“I feel paranoid. You aren’t going to try to kill me or kidnap me, right?!?”
“No.” Speaking stoically.
“Did anything change besides the fact that you took a dab?” Tyler asked.
“Then it was the dab.”
“I didn’t know that. I have had something like that happen before. The dab can do that?”
“Yeah. Sometimes it’s just a bad dab, like a bad trip.”
I had been using cannabis for 16 years and didn’t know that. Of course, I didn’t start dabbing until #2016.
“Cool. I had something like that happen once and I threw out all of my shit.”
“That sucks, man. It was just a bad dab. Here, have another one.”
That one got me feeling good.
“Well, I have to get back to the spouse. Remember the things we talked about, especially the stuff about stretching your dollar.”
“I will. You do the same. Don’t worry about building bombs, and don’t buy a gun if it violates your conscience, but always stay alert and safe, especially from cops.”
“It’s been cool to hang out. Let’s do it again, soon.”
“We will.” He said.
“You stay safe on the way back to Texas.”
I hopped out of his car, and jumped in mine. After starting the car, I let it warm up. Tyler had left some hand written directions and addresses on a sheet of paper. I was going to try to swing by the VA, and then head back to Texas.
I jumped on the loop, and made my way toward the VA. The exit was something like 267. I looked up at the exit, wondering how far away it was, and I saw 276. I didn’t know if I was going toward 267 or away from 267. After driving another 10 minutes, I decided to exit and ask someone. As I started to exit, I saw signs for Colorado Springs…the way home. I decided to head to Colorado Springs instead of heading back for the VA.
It was providence.
Traveling is fun. I almost never regret it. I wish our governments made it easier to travel. Truth be told, they don’t want that. It would make us too smart for their tyranny.
Wagen, over and out.