11/20/03 Little Rock, Big Headache

We played New orleans last night, to a surprisingly good crowd, everyone wanted the Dvd even though the Austin chronicle reviewed it as "boring and egotistical" we sold out of what we had, and tried to hock some T-shirts on the ones who wanted one but didn't make it in time, the shirts don't really look much different than the via satellite ones we had 2 years ago so there wasn't any takers. We grabbed some greasy ass pizza around the corner from the club, waited for Ian to get some sleeping pills from some nice lady on a street corner, (she was not a hooker, at least not that I know, but what the hell do I know about hookers?) hopped in the van and started off down the road, now here is where things as always get fun, no matter where we are, the is a recurring anomaly that occurs whenever I happen to be driving and in need of directions, Ian decides its time to call someone and chat, ignore the guy attempting to look at the map and drive the whole time avoiding drunks who are trying to avoid the dancing munchkins that they think they see, it's time to chat. Now generally I don't mind Ian chatting with anyone, but I have a problem with the incessant blah, blah, blah every-time I, the driver need anything, Ian sees things differently I am sure, whenever he drives his main focus happens to be on the titillating conversation on the phone, not the 1/2 inch distance from the passenger door to the car next to it. So the evening started off with some confusion getting out of New Orleans, after I stopped the car checked the map, let Ian pee, we were off down the road to Little Rock, Ian happily snoozing with the help of his bathtub rohypnol. 7 and a half hours later we pull into Little Rock, by this time I am a little phased by the overnight drive, not too bad but a wee bit grouchy, not willing to put up with any shit, it happens after long drives, my head gets pissed that it wasted good brain cells just keeping a rattling box between some lines, so it dwells on all kinds of pissy things, like, "look at him sleeping over there, so peaceful, and here I am driving, playing, hocking merch, loading gear, changing strings, and debating about opening the door and letting him sleep off his back-rubbed ruffie induced nap on the side of the road that runs by the Mississippi State Penitentiary, " but, I don't, I just keep driving, thinking to myself, I am doing this for a good reason.

C.D.