The Story of a Good Samaritan White Supremist and Slim the Pig

SO, I WENT ON A BLACKOUT THIS WEEKEND...Forgot to tell you I was highway bound...And here's a recap of my latest adventure...

It seems, all I have to do is interact with society and something crazy comes my way. This weekend, I drove 1,605 miles. Hubby and I road tripped to Phoenix AZ. We drove from 1 hour north of San Francisco to Scottsdale, AZ. No, we did not mess up and think we were going to sneak into the SuperBowl but got the date wrong. We went to pick up a boat. Yes, our 30 year old boat has been replaced with a 2 year old. So, road weary on Sunday evening, we are into the last 50 miles of that leg and some lady in a Mercedes pulls up next to us, puts on her caution lights and motions us to pull over. And at that very second a Rest Stop exit sign pops up. I shout..."REST STOP", and he swings the rig in...

We have a flat tire on the trailer. Mind you, there are 6 tires on the trailer and 6 tires on the dually truck. 12 tires...the odds are pretty good we could get a flat, for fucks sake. And my hubby announces that he has NO TOOLS in the truck to fix a flat tire. NICE ONE. We are driving a dually truck that would pull hell off it's hinges, and has every gadget and power booster installed on it, but he doesn't bring so much as a toothpick to change a tire. So, instead of blowing a gasket (cause we don't have tools to fix that either), I say, well, I'm going to pee and you go talk to the 18-wheeler drivers and get tools from them. I head off to the pee hut, and as I am washing my hands I read a letter posted on the wall..."Please, if you can help, there is a lady who lives in this rest stop with a pig. She is displaced from Hurricane Katrina and lives in her van with a pig in this parking lot. She is too proud to beg, but if you could help her, even give her some food for the pig, it would be nice. She will not beg."So, I think...well, I have $3.00 in my pocket and a slice of pizza from the last gas stop, so what the hell, and I'd love to take a picture of the pig for the blog. (insert pig photo here) I go to meet the pig and her owner, and she rejects the food, but takes the money. And also, looks at me puzzled and says...."How did you know I am homeless???" I said, "From the letter posted in the bathroom." She blew a gasket. She screamed, "What??? I am so embarrassed, what letter in the bathroom?" And she grabs my sleeve and makes me come show her the letter. She is distraught, and bummed. I said, "Hey, listen, you are homeless, and that's OK. (I sort of said it like Stuart Smalley. LOL) "If you take the sign down, people can't know to help you." And she said, "Well they will think I wrote it, and I don't beg." I said, ok, do whatever you think is best for you and Slim (pig's name). Well, she hugged and thanked me and asked me to come pet the pig. (yuk...it's fur is like barbed wire). I pretended to pet it, and was glad I had closed toe shoes on for that oinker would assuredly have mistaken my red toenails as jelly beans and chewed my little toes right off. He was mean as hell, Slim was, and so, I bid him adieu.

Back to the flat tire. Hubby has found a man looking for gas money and struck a deal with him. For some cash, he is crawling around on the ground and changing our tire with his tools. So, I busy myself by straightening up the cab of the truck, sorting out soda cans and water bottles...there was a man collecting them for recycling...I'll go find him and add to his pile. So, off I go. Here comes pig lady. She wants to chat some more and introduce me to her friend from the trailer park behind the Rest Stop. (I cannot make this shit up.) Then Greg yells at me to come on..he's done. So, I run back, and pass the guy who fixed our tire..."Excuse me sir, do you recycle?" He looks at me with this stupid look..."NO"...and I am sort of like...um, scared. So I ditch the trash and run. I get in the truck and the conversation goes as follows...

G: "Well, as White Supremist Prison Escapees go, he was pretty nice, huh?"
Cole:"What??? How do you know he was a White Supremist? How do you know he escaped?"
G: "Cole, he couldn't squeeze another swaztika tattoo on his arm or neck...didn't you see those? And he had the tear tattoos. That M'fkr was straight out of the pen...for murder with those tears tattoo'd on his cheeks."
Cole: "Tear tattoos. What does that mean. And how do they get tattoos in prison."
G: "With ink pens and forks and shit. They break the skin and drip the ink into it. "
Cole: "OMG, how do you know this shit. OMG, he's going to follow us and chop us up."
G: "No he's not, he called me an angel. And he gave me the secret white supremist murderer special handshake goodbye"
Cole: "Well, that explains why he doesn't recycle"

So, that was that, and on down the road we went. If you are ever on the I-10 from Palm Springs, stop in the rest stop at Cherry Lane outside Beaumont, CA and say hi to Slim.

ColeyB