When it rains, it pours

I am currently sitting in my car, parked at a random gas station, near Santa Anna, Texas. The rain is pouring down so fast and strong that one's windshield wipers cannot go fast enough to see out of the front window while driving. So far, this is the second stop I've made for this reason since I left Austin. It's an interesting experience.

As I have been sitting in the car today, I've noticed what used to be a massive amount of bug bites on my left ass cheek has morphed into some sort of rash. It itches and looks like poison oak, but I don't think I have come across that while out in Texas. A little research may be required on diagnosing my ass cheek rash. For now, I just am trying to not be too distracted by it, and hope that it doesn't continue to spread down my leg as it seems to have been doing throughout the week.

This morning I got a parking ticket. I was trying to so something nice and pick up a fancy bottle of cognac for Papa John. I couldn't find free parking, and I didn't have change and my credit card wasn't working at the pay for parking meter. I ran to the liquor store and back, in the sweltering humidity and off of maybe 3 hrs of sleep, only to come back to the parking cop writing me a ticket, as I flail up to my car begging for a break.

She did not like me. First parking ticket ever, I believe.

Yesterday, when I caught the same liquor store out of the corner of my eye and wanted to inquire about the cognac in question and if it had been delivered yet, I got into a minor car accident. I scratched the side of a car while trying to switch lanes, but the car was right in my blind spot.

The other night, I was enjoying a set at one of my Austin pubs. This was a popular gig and the place was packed. I stood behind all the reserved tables with a perfect view of the stage, my drink resting on the divider/wall in front of me. As the guy sitting in the table on the other side of the wall reached around to put his arm around his drunk date, he hit my glass, and my glass hit my foot. Everyone around was so helpful to come over and get the glass cleaned up, particularly the bartenders. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Oh yeah for sure," I started to reply, and then, "oh no actually my foot is actually gushing blood." And it was...

I went straight to the bathroom to wipe up the puddle of blood accumulating on my sandal, already stained red. There was a lady in the restroom that was so nice she was literally grabbing paper towels and wiping down my foot! The bartender then came in with the first aid kit to wrap up my big toe.

That was just the last 3 days, I think. But all of the amazing times in those days seem to outweigh the crazy times. Lying in a river for hours, 4am chicken and waffles, two-steppin with nice strangers, local piano dive bar with a train car as the bathroom (which includes a stripper pole), and countless amazing talent across blues, reggae-ish, country and rock.

I may have gained 5 lbs (or more), spent way too much money, added more to my driving record in the last two days than I have in my lifetime, plus the bruises, cuts, bug bites and rashes, but I am still cruisin on. Each moment, each hardship, each new smile and handshake are all part of the experience.

I am getting close to being worn out, but I'm not there yet. Onward!!!