Road Trip Jacobe Style...

As the plane touched the ground in Fort Myers, Florida, I knew I was in for a long run on the road. I had no idea what sort of condition my place was going to be in Mobile, Alabama. I hadn't been there in over two months and it was the dead of summer on the Gulf Coast so at the very least I was expecting a few cockroaches.

The drive to Mobile was much longer than google maps or myself had anticipated--I was thinking 10 hours of mediocre driving would get me there, so I pushed the speed a little more than usual, but at 3 in the morning, some eight hours into a twelve hour jaunt through Florida, I find myself on the side of the road, thanks to the Florida State Patrol. By the time I make it to Mobile, the sun has risen in the skyline and I have been up for more than 24 hours since leaving my new wife in Germany, thanks to the department of Homeland Security.

As I pull into the parking spot, I see that the townhouse is still there, but there is a slip of paper on the door, which is never a good sign.
The sign notes that the water in the apartment has been shut off for non-payment earlier this afternoon. I sigh. This is just my type of luck--just a few hours short of getting a water bill. If this is all that goes wrong, things can't be all that bad. I am such a daze anyway it doesn't really matter, all I want is a bed and a shower-- but just the bed will do.

I have been thinking of my bed for several hours now and the sight of it almost brings tears to my eyes--there is something about this bed that really rings comfort to me. I lay on top of the bed, allowing my thoughts to mill over the last month of my life, a wedding in Germany, an impromptu Turkish honeymoon and now the tying of loose ends in Alabama, a long journey back to Seattle--my thoughts reel me into a slumber that should last for days.

It doesn't. I know that there is so much to be done and this weighs on my mind heavily. I have about two days until my good friend Jacobe flies down from San Francisco to help me finalize things for the movers and drive with me back to his San Francisco and then I will go to Seattle.
The time of course slips by as it always does and I find myself driving to pick him up at the Louis Armstrong International Airport in New Orleans, my favorite American city. I have not been so delighted to see someone is quite some time. We head into the French Quarter at 1am, just to see what could possibly be going on for a Sunday night. Of course since it is the French Quarter in the wee hours of the night, there is always something going on--the streets smell just like they always do, like piss, booze and vomit--oh how I miss that smell from time to time. It is the smell of pure sin.

We decide that we aren't quite in the New Orleans state of mind and instead head to Mobile...

...more later.