Shark Week, 2011
Currently propped up by hotel pillows. A shark has been spotted in the inlet by South Beach, and we’re watching the Shark Week on Discovery Channel in Lafayette, LA. I think Louisianas aren’t interested by sharks, because there are alligators here. Alligators are the deer of the South.
Gators, while less toothy, can dig their nails into the ground and scuttle after you, whereas, with a Great White, you have to really pick a fight — or be as round as a seal, and floating.
Today, we had the opportunity to see live tigers in a town outside of Baton Rouge, but just got gas instead.
We also just found a cockroach in our hotel room, and while Great Whites are munching on a whale carcass, Paul is barreling after a cockroach with a gym shoe. We’re found two behind the table.
Yesterday, we drove through Memphis’s downtown — it looked like Mardi Gras, with tourists in baseball caps and full hotels. We ended up at a La Quinta outside of the Memphis airport, where we ordered Domino’s and watched grown men with knee pads compete in the X Games.
To gas up, we ended up in a small town that consisted of a gas station and a Super 8. The gas station had a little old man sitting in the corner, his old-man belly still as he sat in his chair.
We’ve seen billboards for the following: deer-hunting, un-abortions, anti-forest fires, and renting billboards.
If we were in a foreign country, we’d be in the midst of a monsoon. Rain comes down in sheets, and then there’s a trickle, and then it’s sun. And then a blanket of rain is thrown back on. Lawns are big puddles. The parking lot has turned into a lake. You see people trudging around with bags and shirts draped over their heads. On the highway, I saw a horse in a trailer with a mask covering its eyes and mouth, but presumably for different reasons.
Today, happy glut-ness at Target; tomorrow, happy glut-ness at Target and Walmart, searching out a futon the way sharks go after whale carcasses.
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