Soel: Memento

The constant vibration of the road had jarred my soul awake and sent my ass to sleep by the time the skyline of the city finally revealed itself. I felt like someone had shot me with a tranquilizer dart about 50 miles ago and it had really sunk in deep. Motorcycles are sexy in theory and even then only for short rides. The blessings of a parking lot were just off to the right of the highway exit so I pulled in and put my feet on ground for the first time in 300 years. Sweaty is the natural condition of riding gear, I think it comes pre-loaded with some abnormal funk that grows progressively nastier with every mile. The helmet came off with an audible slorching sound and all I could think of was escaping the tyranny of the Flame Lord so evident outside.



Sweet air conditioned salvation lay only feet away from me and I fell through the front door of the bar into the crisp cool air. Or at least I thought. My brain tricked me for a moment, imagined fresh air wafting over my sore and sweat soaked body. In reality the muggy air was hotter in the bar than it was outside. My skin quickly realized what my brain refused to believe and sent the "resume sweating" signal rushing through my nerves. The look of incredulity on my face must have triggered some deep running sympathy in the bartender as she smiled and told me "Sorry, A/C's busted honey!" What cruel fate had led me to Hell?



Seeing no sense in trying to find another place to sit and rest this far out in the country, I pulled up a seat at the bar and ordered a beer and whatever shitty bar food was available. To my surprise the food was better than most bar chow, plenty of vegetables and fresh food on the menu. Fuck it, I ordered a hummus platter. Who knew thatbumfuck Virginia had vegan game? Delicious hummus platter filled every sense I had and the fan cooled what it could off of my head and shoulders. As I sat back and pondered the ceiling I could hear the door opening and closing behind me, noises of people coming in and ordering drinks. Typical bar chatter, I thought, I delved back into the book I'd brought along for times like this. About three chapters and two beers later I looked down at my wrist and cursed loudly. 8 o'clock at night! Shit, I'd gotten there at six and I still had three hours on the road to get home. I reached back to grab my wallet and pay up when the room came back to me all at once.



This place was packed to the rafters, past the rooftop and reaching towards the rising moon. Everywhere I looked there were people dancing, bodies flowing into one another and becoming a blur of limbs and sweat. At first I thought there was no order but as I watched and listened I could barely hear the slinky beat riding behind this mass of grooving flesh and salt water. Something down by my stomach clicked on and my feet started tapping out the rhythm. Senses started melding together, I was feeling bass lines across my flesh, watching pheromones dance in front of my eyes. The gravity well of bodies pulled me forward into the teeming, humid mass of humanity and that's really where the story ends.



Or begins, if you ask me. I don't really recall anything after that until I woke up. A stray dog licked my face as the grainy film vision of hangover revealed me to be laying stark naked in the middle of a field behind the bar, my clothes lain out as bed and pillow. Whatever had happened after the black hole of bodies sucked me in I had been laid mightily.Every muscle in my body felt like it had been through it's own personal triathlon of Kama Sutra techniques and I don't think their was a part of me that didn't reek of sex. A brief survey of my possessions found everything in order so I started the trip back to the parking lot, trying to simultaneously smoke a cigarette and pull my pants on at the same time. I stood next to my bike, stubbing out the last of my smoke and staring up at the sun. If I could remember what the fuck they were playing last night I'd have the most dangerous sexual weapon ever conceived. As I turned to walk back to the bar and find out I stopped dead.



The place was full of cobwebs, door hanging on for life and gently swaying back and forth in the early morning breeze. It looked like no one had been here in at least 20 years. I have seen too much weird shit in this life to start questioning good fortune and if demons stole my soul last night, the dance had been worth it all. I walked back towards the bike and slid my helmet back into place. The familiar heat overtook every pore and that's when I knew I was still alive, still in this reality. No imagination, no dream, no layer of Dante's hell can properly simulate a Southern summer and no devil would ever be so cruel as to subject someone to it. I knew it to be as real as the rumble under my bones as the road stretched out in front of me. That, and the fact that my ass was still as numb as roadkill.


Good for: Losing your mind and your pants. You didn't need them any way.

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