Food of the Gods
If there were just one reason to visit Galveston, this would be it. A whole warehouse devoted to peanut butter. I can’t imagine life without peanut butter and all of its progeny like cookies, cheesecake, milkshakes, and the pièce de résistance…peanut butter, lettuce, and mayonnaise sandwiches. There. Does life get any better than that? I rest my case. My mother said she was raised on peanut butter.
Riding back to Houston
Having warded off the kindly advances of someone who wanted to show us around Galveston and even drive us back up to Houston, even though this gentleman could hardly speak English, we caught an Uber ride. And it turned out to be a wild ride.
Miss Lynne drove us to the airport in Houston. She was doing so many other things at the same time besides driving really fast that I thought we might just not make it. We almost side swiped a white vehicle, “I didn’t see that,” she said. Might there be a Meth issue?
Scalper and I ain’t Talkin’ Tickets.
She is one quarter Apache. It must be a small one quarter because she is blonde and maybe 90 pounds soaking wet. She even lived on the reservation with her father’s people. She was also horribly attacked by a former husband who bit her ear off. It still bothers her. I suggested lidocaine. It works for me. He also scalped her because she is Apache. I thought it was the other way around. The Indians scalped the white man. Or maybe he was getting revenge for historic wrongs. I don’t know. She thought her hair was simply falling in her face but it turns out it was her scalp. How bloody gruesome is that, I ask you?
This maniac also smashed her face into concrete, broke her jaw and cut her leg. There was something else too but I can’t remember. At this point, I was having serious misgivings about hiring Miss Lynne because I wasn’t sure that Maureen should be listening to this horrific account of domestic abuse. But, fortunately, it was just then that she changed the subject.
Bad Gangstas
The love of Miss Lynne’s life had just died about a month ago. They had been together for 9 years. For 7 of those years he had liver cancer. Cancer is such an evil disease. He found out about the cancer after he was shot in the back three times by a .45. Police said it was probably gang initiation. What? Being shot in the back three times? It sounds like attempted murder. That’s a tough gang. Come here and let us shoot you numerous times and see if you survive. No thanks.
Oh, wait a minute. The gang shoots an innocent person and that is the initiation. Okay, got it. I’m not too quick on the uptake as regards gangs.
I have only related the highlights of our conversation and have spared you the lowlights. Suffice to say, we made it to the airport in one piece.
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