5 posts tagged “baton rouge”
i tried to just scan it, but my scanner isn't big enough and i'm not good enough (nor do i have the time) to scan it in pieces and put it all together. anyway, here it is. i wrote this the other day around the edges of the cover of the february 22, 2007 usa today, which taylor's dad kindly mailed to her, so that i would have a copy.
it's been snowing for 2 days straight, the temperature has been in the low 30s-high 20s. i just finished forcing people to take notice of me in a brilliant performance, a girl (that is not my girlfriend) just told me how much she wants me, and i just struck the wrong chord with the girl that i do call my girlfriend. i might go to alaska and i'm in another (seemingly very good) play. i might, at this point, fall completely apart. none of this actually matters at all, i could succeed or not. all the while, though, post-katrina (post-k) baton rouge is struggling with its identity.
the last night i was in baton rouge, i met up with dan and micah at the northgate tavern.
when i walked in, they were engaged with a tattooed, shaved headed fella at the end of the bar. i sat next to micah and started complaining about the fact that my mom wanted to come to chicago for my orientation at columbia. i was saying how i really didn't need her to do that, and how i was 23...damnit. dan and the other guy stopped talking to pay attention to what i was saying. the other guy spoke first. "whatchu gonna do about it?"
what do you mean?
"well, y'know. i just got out of prison today. i'm staying at my mom's. and y'know what i told her as soon as i got back to her house? thank you, mom, but i'm going to a bar and i'm getting drunk."
really?
"yep. and that's whatchu gotta do, too."
at this point, he lost interest with me and continuted his conversation with dan while micah filled me in on the details. apparently, this guy really did just get out of jail that day. apparently, he got caught with 3 pounds of pot and went straight to jail without passing go. but, now, he was asking dan and micah how much he could sell weed for in baton rouge (he was arrested in arkansas), because he had 26 pounds buried across the street from his house. so he's getting back in the game.
i was intrigued.
so what happened, man? i'm intrigued.
"well, you see, i had been talking to this guy's daughter that i was selling to. and he didn't like me talking to his daughter, he just wanted my weed. so one day i was at his house, talking to his daughter, and he comes out to tell me to get off his property or he's calling 5-0. so i told him he didn't seem too mad earlier when i he was buying my weed. so he called the cops on me."
micah, dan, and i are silent. this is FOX's COPS come to life. large, in high definition, and sharing beer with us.
"so i go home and this dude comes over, cause every once in a while...and this ain't no lie, i don't usually fuck with the shit...but, this dude...he came over with a few pounds of coke. he wanted me to sell some, but i told that dude no. i told him to leave, cause the cops were probably on their way over here, so he did. but the cops got him when he was leaving, and he said everything was mine. so, y'know, the cops come in my place with their guns drawn and all that...my little girls in the fucking room and shit. and, see, they busted me with the 3 pounds i had in my house, and i only had those pounds in my house 'cause my cousin wanted me to sell him 3 pounds that night. they don't know i got a bunch more shit buried across the street."
jesus. this guy is serious. i can't believe this story.
"but, so i got out after 3 years today. and now i'm staying with my mom, here in baton rouge. and i been sitting at this bar for a while, talking to your friends here. they're pretty nice guys, they been telling me how much i can get for the shit i still got in arkansas."
i never did get the guy's name. and i'll probably never talk to him again. but his story sparked a few conversations between the three of us at maya's later that night.
three years for selling weed?
should i feel sorry for this dude?
i mean, he is kinda an idiot.
but his wife left him and he can't see his kids anymore.
are you actually going to call that number he gave you?
i mean, he wants to hang out. i'll hang out, right?
at a bar, maybe.
yeah, no. i'm not inviting him over or anything like that.
that's how i spent my last night in baton rouge. talking about a confessed ex-con, and how fucked up it is that he knows he has no future because he's an ex-con. so the way he sees it, he has to keep selling weed. there is no other solution.
because there kind of isn't.
the thing about having pretty much only pot-head friends is that when you're not smoking pot with them, it kind of makes the night a little bit longer and a lot less interesting.
so when i was in baton rouge and critter and becca didn't have any pot, the night that i spent with them was looking a little bleak. when i got there, mark was there but he also was without the drug. he and i had a few good conversations, but for the most part we were all just waiting for a surprise offer for pot to come out of nowhere. aubrey came over and said that she would try to find some, too.
for a couple of hours, we just sat there. trying to make conversation. i showed them pictures from chicago, they showed me pictures from their recent tour of the west coast. the night dragged on.
aubrey got a text message around 11 saying that she could get some after 12:30, but she would have to drive to starring to get it. should she go? maybe she could just do it tomorrow...i finally piped up. "i'll be honest guys...i'm here because i wanted to get ridiculously stoned with you guys so let's do it." becca and critter, being becca and critter pretty much flat out refused to go with her so that left me. we drove over there, sexual tension along for the entire ride and all, to find aubrey's co-workers stoned off their asses and watching "independence day," specifically the wonderful bill pullman "today we celebrate OUR indepence day" monologue. i make some more small talk and say i'm good when they pass me the blunt, we hang out for way too long, and eventually i make motions like we need to leave. i'm tired.
back at the house, it seems that mark has had an interesting experience in the ghetto obtaining some schwag with josie. there was no weighing out of the drug and it was given to him in a black garbage bag. but, the good thing is that becca and critter now have both schwag and kb for their trip with becca's parents to hot springs. a fact made all the more amusing to me because i just finished reading f. scott fitzgerald's "basil and josephone stories," in which one of the girls basil pursues spends her family summers in hot springs. becca is a sort of modern-day imogene bissel. her parents are richer than she likes to admit, and she married early in an effort to gain their money. her grandparents also own a house in hot springs, an irony lost on everybody in the room but myself.
so 2 joints are rolled up. both of them are half schwag/half kb. instantly, the mood changes. critter puts garage a trois on. they begin packing. aubrey and i begin dancing. we actually have subjects to talk about. now i'm talking about how hard it is to find pot in chicago and how much i wish they all lived around me. aubrey is discussing how she wants to come to chicago after she graduates for a couple of weeks to figure out if she wants to move here.
it was amazing. all of a sudden, we were a thousand times happier. now, they were all happy i was in town and sad to see me go. now, they were excited about their own trip. now, aubrey was my best friend. for the 4 hours up until this point, we were 4 people just together because we had nothing better to do. now, we were muskateers. together, forever, for everything.
around 5, everything was coming together. becca and critter were about ready to head off to hot springs, aubrey was ready to go to sleep, and i was about ready to go back to my old house where i was no longer comfortable. critter was talking to me about how happy he was for me. he told me to go back to chicago and "keep doing your thing." me, in my best rap star voice, replied, "oh, you know. i do do my thang." laughter inevitably ensues.
you see, when one is under the influence of marijuana, a sentence such as "i do do my thing" can be easily understood as , "i doo doo my thing;" both a poo poo and penis joke, in one. we couldn't stop laughing. critter told becca and aubrey what we were laughing about and they broke down, as well. the laughter didn't stop until we all agreed that one last bowl should be smoked before we finally parted ways.
after the last bowl, i said my final good-byes. i probably won't be returning to louisiana for a long time, and becca and critter sure as hell can't be expected to head up to chicago any time soon. but this is how my relationships exist. dan, micah, becca, critter, even katie. and everybody else that you could lump into that group. how excited are we, really, to see each other when not under the influence of some drug or another? in fact, when did we become friends? over a few kegs? when one person or another could get us pot when nobody else could? ..........but is this such a bad thing? ask anybody. i will call that group my "best friends." it's ironic, i guess. it's disheartening, for sure. all i know is that at the end of that night, i was happy.
i went home, slept for 5 hours, and did it all over again with aubrey, dan, micah, & maya.
how do you talk about a day with your family at a hunting camp on the mississippi without filling it with stereotypes about the south?
you can't. so i'll just tell you what really happened.
my cousin owns a hunting camp on the west bank, just north of baton rouge that he also uses as his home. it's a really nice place with much acreage, many deer to kill, and a house straight out of "log cabins annual." he pretty much built the place from the ground up with lumber from the camp. then, he installed satellite television, a pool overlooking the river, and a great hammock.
my little brother spends a lot of time out there, and he felt it necessary to show me why. he brought me for a tour on the four-wheeler. he would occasionally stop and say, "see? see why i love this place?" and i had to say that i did. it's gorgeous. kyle pointed out where the cranes nested, and where the "poor black men fish around here." he also nearly ran over a snapping turtle. i jumped off the four-wheeler and took a picture of him with my crappy cameraphone. the little guy didn't look too happy with me, either. he looked up at me and snapped his powerful jaws; kyle said (in his best hick accent), "watch out or he'll snap your balls off." i had to admit that i had no doubt he would.
back at the house, the constant flow of jokes about my big city move continued.
"y'know, you're in louisiana. you can wear shorts, gavin." yes, i know...but i just had a nice brunch with my friends.
"i bet they don't have good food like this up there, do they YANKEE?" no, they really don't. i miss the food here terribly.
"hey. did you get lost comin' here? took you long enough! what, you don't know your way around here?!" geez, guys. i drive out here once every 3 years. of course i don't know my way around.
so i sat on the back porch and drank beer. because if i sat inside, i would be forced to watch comedy central's "red state weekend," and outside all i had to deal with was country music on the on-again, off-again outdoor speaker system. also because i was tired of being allowed to sit at the adult table and gossip about the family members that weren't there anymore. but mostly, because that's what kyle's girlfriend was doing, and that's what everybody expected me to be doing. i'm the city boy that smokes pot and drinks all the time, my family talks to me less when i'm obviously doing one of them. but, i couldn't shake all of them. first, my uncle terry told me about his dream. he told me, "gavin...i was riding a harley all night last night until my wife woke me up. it was wonderful." then, my aunt celie kept sitting down next to me and staring at me. she would stare for a minute, and then just say, "you really do look happier, gavin. you really do." i know i do. because i really am happier. but she kept telling me that. in fact, she did it all day long. she was constantly telling me that i was looking skinnier, tanner, better-looking, & happier. toward the end of the day, i decided to make it uncomfortable for her. i told her that i knew i looked better and that as soon as i got back to chicago, i was going to start going out to bars and picking up women. as many women as i could get. she backed off after that.
as i started to leave, the mood changed. my cousin's daughter soaked me with water from the pool. i sternly told her to stop but she poured another cup on. i guess i deserve it for spending so much time with her when she was really young, but this meant that nobody would hug me good-bye. i was left with a causual, "well, i'll see y'all later." i got in my car and put billy breathes on again, for the 438th time. it was a perfect ending to the day, i felt, because who doesn't want to be prince caspian and float upon the waves?
the overriding feeling in baton rouge was "eternally not the same." every time i spent time with my true friends, i felt completely out of the loop. every time i spent time with my family, i felt like a celebrity. every time i spent time alone, i felt completely not at home. there wasn't anything i could do. when i wanted love, i got false affection; when i wanted to talk about my new life, i got complaints about the noise.
it's not like i expected to show up in the city and be greeted with a ticker tape parade, but i also didn't expect to be greeted with lackadaisical contact with the people that mean the most to me.
i got a few good things out of the trip. good stories. great stories. and, toward the end of the trip, the time became more quality.
so, the entries that follow this one will be those stories. so far, they are "aubrey wants her professor," "new orleans," "i do do my thang," and stories about friends day and that guy dan, micah, and i met last night who just got out of jail.
i'll get to all of this later tonight. drinking now.
