Car Prison

So I was supposed to be in the office by 7:30 this morning but made it in by 8:15, not too bad considering I knew I didn't have to walk past any questioning eyes on the way in. We drove all day, all day- today's driving beats going to Macon or Griffin from Atlanta any day. Mental note: I will no longer consider the Macon/Griffin route a shitty route when back in ATL. Well, not for the first couple of weeks anyway. I think we drove all over NC today, luckily it's a one time deal to get familiariazed with the product here. Yeaaay. I'm even staying away from the PBR while up here I'm so confused. I am in search of the closest thing to my neighborhood in ATL here in Charlotte but have limited references and limited resources thus far. I will be in car prison again tomorrow seeking a bearable neighborhood. I think I can cope with car prison as long as I am not condemned to live in the equivalent of say Alpharetta or midtown or Virginia Highlands. I want to be near the crazies, the freaks and the borderline fruits so I may feel normal, at home or close to at least.

The current "man" here in Charlotte lives in a cookie-cutter fairly new subdivision but knows, or claims to thus far, to know what kinda 'hood I'd like to grace with my constant presence, so for now I have to rely on his guidance. I've asked random people and they seem to think "quiet" neighborhoods are the answer. What are they talking about? I want action- even if I'm just watching I want action nearby. I want the quirky characters that make a village a village. I want a place where you know people but can remain unmolested if you so choose. I want places within walking distance so I may avoid the car prison.

Charlotte is just like anytown USA so far, much cleaner than ATL thus far- I'll find the grit though- there's always grit you just have to look.

There's the expensive, no doubt trendy places around here- those are only fun for people-watching, for poser-identifying, for liar-spotting and I'm not in the mood for that. I'm in the mood for home, my dog, my running shoes and skates. That sounds pathetic at best, all that I can bring up here on my next trip back- it just seems a temporary glitch like all the changes in my Life at one point or another. Gay Husband will most likely have to hang with the friendly neighborhood witch, she's not as cool as I but it will have to do. That or he'll have to find himself a new straight-bitchy fake-ass wife, he's pretty good at it, I'm about his tenth I bet.

I don't even know what the #%$*@ I'm writing, I'm just staying away from the evil television in my room- it has poisoned my mind with the estoopidest song ever, that dumb ass Black-Eyed-P shit about bumps and lumps and money spending and spinning and crap. Who writes this shit??? Why do people think that song is cool? Why is using your ass and tits to make some over-horny asshole buy you things cool and worth writing a piece of shit song? And these assholes buying these broads shit just so they can fuck them? What's the ^$%$* point? So what, so you fucked her and then what? It is all so pointless. So you got some dumb, dick-driven asshole to buy you shit- woo-fucking-hoo! What an accomplishment that is, astounding- right up there with winning the Nobel prize, feeding the hungry, writing a master piece.

So I gotta go some drunken whore just walked in asking me how long I'd be on this piece of crap computer and I told her I'd be a little while- so the overgrown, mutant, pathetic child ran to the front desk to get some dumbass efficient little worker in this overpriced shithole to come over and inform me that there is a 30 minute limit so that "every guest can use the internet." Let's see if I can figure out how to make this thing useless for the rest of the night since I'll be forced to go back into the crappy room that smells like mold. What a skank- shouldn't she be out drinking some more?

I'm not bitter or in a bad mood, it's the remnants of the car prison, I'm still under it's evil spell.