gradual companion piece

• 

  Dang Dude! Day One:

  I walk outside of baggage claim and have a cigarette. I lost mine. Ask a stranger for one. He winces and gives it to me. It’s an American Spirit. I hate them and smoke about half of it. I step back inside on a mission to find my bag and it’s there. Back outside and John picks me up in the truck. “Dang Dude!” is our recent salutation. 

  “Where to?” he says.

  “Is Marfa on the way?”

  “Not really, but I’m down if you’re down…”

  We head towards Marfa. 

  The way there is partially on a small highway that goes through Johnson City, TX, named after the 36th president. We see some strange Gazelle looking things with curly horns. We can’t figure out the name, so John phones a friend. No dice. We just go on speculating on this species. 

  We stop at a Subway to get a sandwich. Ozona. I’ve been here before. The girl working behind the vegetable bar hates her life. Maybe she didn’t want to grow up to be an artist. We then head across the street to the gas station for Blue Monster energy drinks (furthermore just referred to as “Blues”). They are John’s favorite. The last time I was at this gas station, somebody inside said “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a faggot that young before.”, referring to my friend Sean. No chance this time. We wear our pants a bit looser.

  We carry on down the road. I break out the 4x5 camera around sunset and take a few pictures. My polaroid holder has a light leak and I’m not pleased about it’s “artsiness”. We get to Marfa and set up tents at El Cosmico, a place that has restored Airstream for overpriced rental and campgrounds. 

  To the bar. 

  John orders a patty melt (with bacon) and a Lone Star. I  follow suit and add jalapenos. I will regret this later. The bartender is a nice guy that went to Columbia, so we have a conversation about New York. We have a conversation about Marfa. He wants to get off the grid it seems. Sounds fine by me as long as he refills our beers and gives us jukebox credits. Otis Redding, Rolling Stones, Dr. Hook, Tom Petty, Willie Nelson, you get the idea. 

  5 beers, 6 beers…. one more. one more. We are the only dudes in this bar. Some guys walk in. It happens to be the band called Grizzly Bear. John and I go to the back to play shuffle board and say hi. They guys are nice but somewhat shy. I pull off a miraculous win at shuffle board. 

  Last call, and a walk down the road to the tent where I lay my head.