Honey Crust
Well-known member
- Joined
- Nov 4, 2018
- Messages
- 142
- Reaction score
- 759
- Location
- Bertha!
- Website
- flowercrownmeaqueen.bandcamp.com
"What do you mean you can't take me to Vegas?"
"Apparently some other guy got that load, and dispatch is trying to send me to Montana. I'm sorry."
I rubbed my eyes and tried to think quickly enough that I wouldn't go into panic mode. I had just woken up to the news that a promised ride after a detour to Salt Lake City wasn't actually happening anymore. That promise was the only reason that I was even in SLC, and now I was 350 miles off course with damn near 700 miles to go, and less than a week to get down to LA. I immediately started looking for cheap bus tickets, and to my surprise found a bus from SLC to Las Vegas for only $20 that would be leaving tomorrow. With the merch I sold at the show the night before, that was definitely something I could afford, and I bought the ticket.
"I mean, I know my buddy's got a route down to Las Vegas on Tuesday that I could grab from him, if you still wanted to wait until then?"
"Thanks, Steve, but I just got a bus ticket to Vegas for tomorrow."
"Oh, okay. Yeah, good luck then."
I could hear the disappointment, even over text. I was disappointed too. I really liked Steve, and I enjoyed his company and the comfort of his truck cab. I knew that him not being able to take me wasn't really his fault, but unfortunately, I had a deadline to keep, and I couldn't afford to gamble on reliable transportation.
Just then an email popped up in my notifications, and I opened it to find that my bus had been cancelled and my trip rebooked for the next available departure: Tuesday.
Well, shit. Guess I'm here for a few more days then.
Tiff came out of her room after hearing my very audible sigh while reading that email on her couch, and asked what was up. I explained to her the situation, and she was kind enough to make sure I knew that I could stay for as long as I needed to. I was thankful for being able to have friends like her, especially in times like this, and my appreciation for her grew even more when she asked if I was hungry.
We sat down at the bar of this huge Irish tavern called Piper Down, and Tiff offered to buy me a drink while we waited for the kitchen to open up for lunch. With a guinness in my hand, and the sounds of a soccer game all around us, the conversation turned fairly quickly into us talking about sports when we were younger, our relation to them now, and as we've grown older. I said that I actually really missed playing with other folks, and while my main form of exercise is skateboarding, it's not entirely as interactive with other people as soccer or basketball. Tiff mentioned that she was part of a queer sports league, a group of folks who just get together and do something different every other week, from kickball to basketball, and everything in between. I thought that was a cool enough idea, and thought that I might start my own when I get back to wherever I'd be living.
Finally, the kitchen opened up, and after perusing the bar's separate vegan menu and placing our orders, we got to munch on some truly messy vegan burgers that were honestly better than a lot of the beef burgs I've had in my lifetime. Between wiping sauce off my face and ordering another stout, I asked Tiff what she was up to tonight. Nothing, she replied, and the notion of having a girl's night came up. I nearly jumped at the idea, as it would be a welcome reprieve from the forced-masculinity-as-safety that I was so used to on the road. A night of getting cute and hanging out with another feminine person was just what I needed. We paid our tab, and made our way home to prep for the evening.
"Oh, we're riding there?"
"Yeah! It's gonna be a beautiful night, and we'll be going pretty far."
I looked down at the hem of my dress, which only came down about halfway down my thigh, and then at the bike Tiff was gesturing for me to take.
Fuck it. If Salt Lake City gets a show, they get a show. It's not like I live here anyway.
We hopped on our bikes and started making our way west. Freshly shaven, lips my favorite color of pink, and the cool breeze flowing over me, I basked in the setting sun and felt more myself than I had in a long time. We pulled up to Try-Angles, the gay bar I had come to my first night in SLC, and I bought us a game of pool while Tiff bought us drinks. We talked about transitioning, what the queer culture was like in SLC, why Tiff was still there, and why the city has the vibe that it does. After making a fool of myself by scratching on the 8 ball, and feeling a lil tipsy, we decided to go check out another gay bar called the Sun Trapp a ways up the road. On the way there, we passed one of the coolest things I saw the whole trip.
As we were walking into the front door of this dive-y lookin' gay bar, I remarked that someone at Try-Angles had told me that this was the place to go if I wanted to get drugged.
"Do you?" Tiff asked.
"I don't know. We'll see," I laughed. "It might be fun."
Our drinks were without roofies, but I definitely got the impression that this place catered a lot more to the more masculine audience than the feminine folks who wandered into the door. After exchanging a couple looks with guys that were the kind of "what are you doing here" that wasn't flirty but rude, I asked Tiff if she was hungry. She said that she could eat, but she needed to pick something up for her girlfriend as she was still at work. It was getting fairly late by that point, so Tiff called in some pizzas to pick up, and we rode over to the Dominos closer to where Tiff lived. With food in our hands, we made our way home, and I crashed as hard as I possibly could on the futon that was set up downstairs.
I awoke all cozied up and decided that I needed to actually do something outside today, and also preferably something free. I threw on my day pack, and after a cheap Taco Bell breakfast, I made my way to Salt Lake City's public library.
This was the first library I actually spent any amount of time at in years. I forgot how much I like to read, and I got lost in the aisles of graphic novels, collections of poetry, and short essays feeling as if I was getting lunch with an old friend. I spent a solid six hours in this library, exploring as much as I could, and eventually settling into a real comfy chair next to some giant windows on the fourth floor, sipping on some coffee, doing research, shooting out some messages, and working on my little train notebook. Some of you may remember a status update about how much I loved this place, and it's definitely somewhere that I'd like to visit again if I can. After realizing that it was close enough to closing time that I should probably skedaddle, I walked out and immediately into this cute little pizza place that I had been to the first time I ever stopped in SLC.
On the way back to Tiff's, I called my mom and let her know that I was still alive, that I was gonna make it to California okay. She asked me to call her again once she got there, and we had a good conversation about what she was up to, and how my little brother was getting ready for college, and what she and my dad were gonna do once all the kids were out of the house. It felt good to feel like my family was actually supportive of my crazy adventures, and hearing a familiar voice was really nice.
That night, I made sure my pack was ready to go in the morning, and sewed a little addition to my general hygiene pocket. I was ready to move on from SLC, and with a long ass bus ride the next day, I needed all the sleep I could get...
"Apparently some other guy got that load, and dispatch is trying to send me to Montana. I'm sorry."
I rubbed my eyes and tried to think quickly enough that I wouldn't go into panic mode. I had just woken up to the news that a promised ride after a detour to Salt Lake City wasn't actually happening anymore. That promise was the only reason that I was even in SLC, and now I was 350 miles off course with damn near 700 miles to go, and less than a week to get down to LA. I immediately started looking for cheap bus tickets, and to my surprise found a bus from SLC to Las Vegas for only $20 that would be leaving tomorrow. With the merch I sold at the show the night before, that was definitely something I could afford, and I bought the ticket.
"I mean, I know my buddy's got a route down to Las Vegas on Tuesday that I could grab from him, if you still wanted to wait until then?"
"Thanks, Steve, but I just got a bus ticket to Vegas for tomorrow."
"Oh, okay. Yeah, good luck then."
I could hear the disappointment, even over text. I was disappointed too. I really liked Steve, and I enjoyed his company and the comfort of his truck cab. I knew that him not being able to take me wasn't really his fault, but unfortunately, I had a deadline to keep, and I couldn't afford to gamble on reliable transportation.
Just then an email popped up in my notifications, and I opened it to find that my bus had been cancelled and my trip rebooked for the next available departure: Tuesday.
Well, shit. Guess I'm here for a few more days then.
Tiff came out of her room after hearing my very audible sigh while reading that email on her couch, and asked what was up. I explained to her the situation, and she was kind enough to make sure I knew that I could stay for as long as I needed to. I was thankful for being able to have friends like her, especially in times like this, and my appreciation for her grew even more when she asked if I was hungry.
We sat down at the bar of this huge Irish tavern called Piper Down, and Tiff offered to buy me a drink while we waited for the kitchen to open up for lunch. With a guinness in my hand, and the sounds of a soccer game all around us, the conversation turned fairly quickly into us talking about sports when we were younger, our relation to them now, and as we've grown older. I said that I actually really missed playing with other folks, and while my main form of exercise is skateboarding, it's not entirely as interactive with other people as soccer or basketball. Tiff mentioned that she was part of a queer sports league, a group of folks who just get together and do something different every other week, from kickball to basketball, and everything in between. I thought that was a cool enough idea, and thought that I might start my own when I get back to wherever I'd be living.
Finally, the kitchen opened up, and after perusing the bar's separate vegan menu and placing our orders, we got to munch on some truly messy vegan burgers that were honestly better than a lot of the beef burgs I've had in my lifetime. Between wiping sauce off my face and ordering another stout, I asked Tiff what she was up to tonight. Nothing, she replied, and the notion of having a girl's night came up. I nearly jumped at the idea, as it would be a welcome reprieve from the forced-masculinity-as-safety that I was so used to on the road. A night of getting cute and hanging out with another feminine person was just what I needed. We paid our tab, and made our way home to prep for the evening.
I'll fly away as quickly as I landed
"Oh, we're riding there?"
"Yeah! It's gonna be a beautiful night, and we'll be going pretty far."
I looked down at the hem of my dress, which only came down about halfway down my thigh, and then at the bike Tiff was gesturing for me to take.
Fuck it. If Salt Lake City gets a show, they get a show. It's not like I live here anyway.
We hopped on our bikes and started making our way west. Freshly shaven, lips my favorite color of pink, and the cool breeze flowing over me, I basked in the setting sun and felt more myself than I had in a long time. We pulled up to Try-Angles, the gay bar I had come to my first night in SLC, and I bought us a game of pool while Tiff bought us drinks. We talked about transitioning, what the queer culture was like in SLC, why Tiff was still there, and why the city has the vibe that it does. After making a fool of myself by scratching on the 8 ball, and feeling a lil tipsy, we decided to go check out another gay bar called the Sun Trapp a ways up the road. On the way there, we passed one of the coolest things I saw the whole trip.
Did someone say trains? I did, I said trains
As we were walking into the front door of this dive-y lookin' gay bar, I remarked that someone at Try-Angles had told me that this was the place to go if I wanted to get drugged.
"Do you?" Tiff asked.
"I don't know. We'll see," I laughed. "It might be fun."
Our drinks were without roofies, but I definitely got the impression that this place catered a lot more to the more masculine audience than the feminine folks who wandered into the door. After exchanging a couple looks with guys that were the kind of "what are you doing here" that wasn't flirty but rude, I asked Tiff if she was hungry. She said that she could eat, but she needed to pick something up for her girlfriend as she was still at work. It was getting fairly late by that point, so Tiff called in some pizzas to pick up, and we rode over to the Dominos closer to where Tiff lived. With food in our hands, we made our way home, and I crashed as hard as I possibly could on the futon that was set up downstairs.
I awoke all cozied up and decided that I needed to actually do something outside today, and also preferably something free. I threw on my day pack, and after a cheap Taco Bell breakfast, I made my way to Salt Lake City's public library.
So much natural light, holy shit
This was the first library I actually spent any amount of time at in years. I forgot how much I like to read, and I got lost in the aisles of graphic novels, collections of poetry, and short essays feeling as if I was getting lunch with an old friend. I spent a solid six hours in this library, exploring as much as I could, and eventually settling into a real comfy chair next to some giant windows on the fourth floor, sipping on some coffee, doing research, shooting out some messages, and working on my little train notebook. Some of you may remember a status update about how much I loved this place, and it's definitely somewhere that I'd like to visit again if I can. After realizing that it was close enough to closing time that I should probably skedaddle, I walked out and immediately into this cute little pizza place that I had been to the first time I ever stopped in SLC.
On the way back to Tiff's, I called my mom and let her know that I was still alive, that I was gonna make it to California okay. She asked me to call her again once she got there, and we had a good conversation about what she was up to, and how my little brother was getting ready for college, and what she and my dad were gonna do once all the kids were out of the house. It felt good to feel like my family was actually supportive of my crazy adventures, and hearing a familiar voice was really nice.
That night, I made sure my pack was ready to go in the morning, and sewed a little addition to my general hygiene pocket. I was ready to move on from SLC, and with a long ass bus ride the next day, I needed all the sleep I could get...
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