I’m going to try and catch up here.
On Sunday night, after the Celtics game, I took a shower in the camp latrine. The latrine there is open air, and it was a pretty chilly night (my breath was showing) so I did a lot of hopping in and out of the stream of water while lathering.
On Monday I went back into Philly to hit up bookstores and make the first YouTube broadcast. I got up early and filmed myself on top of the steps of the
The
Monday was a little less exciting than Sunday. I didn’t find any festivals and there were no children’s book characters to wipe mustard on, but I did get to see some more residential parts of Philly, and they really reminded me of parts of
On Monday night I drove to my campsite in
It started pouring at about 3 a.m. on Monday night. At four I decided to vacate the tent. It was still dry, but I knew it was going to start getting wet soon since my tent sat at the bottom of a hill (no other option). I’d brought my computer and all my other electronic stuff into the tent with me and I didn’t want to risk them getting wet. So I packed all my stuff in the van and drove to the nearest coffee shop I could find, which was about 25 minutes away.
Still in my pajamas and slippers, I ordered a medium coffee and sat down to answer some e-mails (I think I’ve secured a
When the rain let up, I went back to the campground to assess the damage to my tent. It was damp inside, but nothing that a couple hours of airing out wouldn’t fix.
I stripped down to my shorts and made my way to the showers. Before getting in, I entered one of the bathroom stalls. My right hand brushed up against the stall wall and smeared through something sticky. Without looking down, I knew what it was. Someone had left a long smeared streak of crap on the wall. This trip is living up to its name more and more as the days pass.
I decided to skip going to the bathroom and hopped in the shower. The water was warm, so I stayed in there a long time. I hadn’t had a good shower in a few days.
I drove to
In Lewes I had lunch at a bookstore/coffeeshop. I was the youngest person in there by about 20 years. They gave me a number for my table, so they’d know where to bring the food. And although there were only about eight tables in there, my number was somewhere in the thirties.
I was going to ask if they’d consider selling DMR, but their featured title, the one that they displayed most prominently in the middle of the tallest shelf, was a Kathie Lee Gifford Christmas book, so I decided not to ask about mine.
From there I went to
Last night I slept in the same campsite. My tent was relatively dry and it hasn’t rained at all since yesterday.
I’m in DC right now, about to go to some bookstores and inquire as to whether they sell books on consignment. Tonight I’ll be spending my last night in the
3 comments:
You know, I believe it was the ancient Toltecs ... or maybe the Mayans, I don't recall ... who believed that sticking your finger in wall crap smear was an omen of good fortune.
Oh no, wait, it was the Sodomites. Definitely the Sodomites.
What, no waitresses or female bartenders this time? It was starting to be a theme. :-)
All I can say about the crap on the wall is ewww, ewww, ewww, ewww, EWWWW.
I wish this blog was just a chronicle of me meeting new bartenders in every state I visit. Oh well.
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