leaving los angeles
06 october

I was frantic these last few days: a weekend garage sale, frenzied packing and sorting, cramming everything I could in my newly discovered attic, meeting my newly adopted subletters- I took these guys, strangers, at the very last minute, purely on instinct. Ok, partly out of desperation, but I have a good feeling about them.

The garage sale- I got to meet the children in my neighborhood for the first time. One kept asking me for pot. One bought a deck of my playing cards so he could gamble in school. One just couldn't stop buying stuff- buttons, pretty rocks, pencils, white-out- he refused to let me give him anything free.

I did not make a mountain of money, and, surveying the landfill in my cottage at the end of the second day, it didn't look like I got rid of a mountain of junk either. I set out a little free box and went back to work, packing for my cross country trip to New England in my truck, with my father.

I wanted to give my dad the gift of seeing the beautiful country I saw on my trips to Colorado: Grand Canyon, Zion, Moab, Monument Valley. When I mentioned I might drive back to my mother's, he jumped right in and said he'd fly out to help me. How could I say no?

I was a little apprehensive about spending so much time with the old man, but hey, I thought I could learn a bit about him, maybe we'd have some heart to heart talks, and in the end learn more about me. I was also concerned about my libido. Six days without manly contact, not counting the umpteen days leading up to today. Someone could get hurt.

A couple hours before I was supposed to leave for LAX to pluck him out of the teeming masses of tourists and begin our journey, I got a phone call from my brother. Dad's plane had been delayed and he would not be getting in until the next morning. My friend Sid and my two subletters watched as I leaped about like a little kid on Xmas morning. I'd have one last chance to get my nut. After I finished packing, I'd head for a local sex club.

I arrived feeling like a sailor on a two hour shore leave. Unfortunately this sailor had stumbled unto a colony of... well, I'll just say there was nobody there who was "my type", and considering the open road that defines my boundaries, it wasn't a pretty sight. I waited and waited, but only more of the same showed up. I left without so much as semi-boner.

On the way to my truck I spied this hot guy in some little sports car, and I thought he was looking at me. He craned his neck, but kept going. I hung out on the sidewalk just in case he came back but after half an hour I got the hint and strolled up and down the street, my last desperate attempt to get laid.

In Los Angeles so few people walk, and even fewer at night, that whenever you do it's like driving in the suburbs and seeing a deer cross the road. People automatically check you out, so the odds were good that someone might like what they see. And someone did.

This little sports car pulled up, and there was the hot guy, and he was even better looking close up. We played the semantics game for all of two seconds and it looked like he was not interested until I said I liked to fuck. Off we went. He knew a place we could go- that meant outdoors, and contrary to popular opinion, I get real nervous doing it in the bush. Something to do with a certain Texas jail. But I agreed when I saw the site. It was remote yet kind of in the open so you could see traffic approaching in time to yank your pants back up. Still, I was nervous, but knew this was my last chance for Nutbush City Limits, so dove in.

It was all over too soon. I could have gone all night- he was a beautiful man with a great gripping ass but he popped right away. Heavy sigh. At least I got some. It wasn't the night I had envisioned, but then, that's life.

The next day I picked up my dad at the airport and we headed for San Diego to see my new niece. My dad and brother made me buy a tool box, a couple flashlights, and a spare tire- seemed mine had been stolen at some point.

And so began day one of a six day journey cross country. New England or Bust.

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