From the archive.....

Feb 25, 2005 12:03

The post on 05-08-2004 was this:

Invent a memory of me, then post it in my journal.

Or something like that. This was the best response.

Remember the time when we got so sick of this damn town that we stole that Harley? We didn’t know which way we wanted to go so we found an empty whiskey bottle and spun it and roared off in the direction it landed on. Before we knew it the evening was upon us and we were many miles away out in the middle of nowhere. Almost out of gas and growing road weary, we stopped at the next place we ran across to shake the dust off for awhile. The run-down honky-tonk was surrounded by pick-ups of every kind, and as we entered the dingy smoke filled room we soon found ourselves surrounded by the drunken glares of some of the most unpleasant rednecks we had ever seen. They weren’t too happy to see the likes of us stumble into their territory either. We walked up to the bar and ordered a couple of drinks, determined to rest our weary bones for a moment or two, but the temperature in the room grew hotter, and soon the insults and the bottles started to fly. I whipped around to defend us, but soon found myself knocked across the sawdust floor. As I got back up on my feet I grabbed a pool cue off the table and swung it around me, trying to fend off the descending redneck hoard. But just as the chaos was about to explode the sound of an angel rang out over the crowd stopping them dead in their tracts. All eyes turned towards the smoky lit corner of the bar where the music was coming from, and there you stood, karaoke microphone in hand, belting out a beautiful rendition of some sad Patsy Cline song. Everyone was in awe and the whole mood of the room changed instantly. For the rest of the night you stood up there singing, melting the hearts these savage beasts, bringing smiles to their faces, a calmness to their souls, and tears to their beers. Backslaps and handshakes ensued as the night came to an end. The bartender passed a pitcher around collecting bills and coins, and presented it to us before we headed out. Some trucker refilled our gas tank as we said our goodbyes in the parking lot, and when we drove off, everyone ran out into the street and waved, hoping to get one last look at the angel who’s voice brought them such a miracle that night. Dawn was breaking as we headed down the road, and I’ll never forget how warm your arms felt around me as we drove off, or how the morning sun danced in your eyes and lit your face as I looked at you over my shoulder. Who would have known that a stolen Harley and the spin of an empty whiskey bottle would have given us this much of an adventure... not to mention all those other adventures to come...

-Macavity

Macavity has not contacted me since I went friends only, and that makes me very sad. I miss his uplifting comments. :-D

Jer
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