Wonder of wonders, inconceivable of inconceivable. The Wiley Cager double skunked me this morning, tying the series. We cut the cards to determine the winner. She cut an eight. i drew a King. So it goes. I had her drag me behind the rig in the rain so assuage my sore feelings. Not really, but we did drive through hard rain all day, including bumper to bumper, five lane traffic through the rain darkened Salt Lake to Ogden corridor Mercifully, I held my place in lane, and we arrived safely at our overnight stay here at the Crystal Hot Springs. It's become a favorite of ours. The campground is passable, the hot springs excellent, and as an overnight stay it can't be beat. Today, while soaking, I was being entertained by some young rings and things Mormon girls who, if my eavesdropping is accurate, all work somewhere in the Salt Lake area as baristas. They talked of regular customers, some of whom they "loved". The vanilla latte doctor who knew all their names. Some they loathed: the arrogant double shot ice coffee with soy milk who never tipped. Three of the four had visible tattoos, although the cutest of the bunch still had her God given creamy white skin. They took pictures to send back to a boy friend, and the girlfriend said, "I asked Nathan if he'd ever been to a strip club." And then I asked him his feelings on divorce. They all guffawed, "What a Segway! " The most tatted girl from Cedar City then related her story about her parent's divorce which is scandalous in the Mormon community. She said an elder told her mom that there was never a good reason to get a divorce, which led to a story about a church member who made "business" trips to Vegas every week where it turns out he was heavily into kiddy porn. The tattooed girl exclaim, "Now, that's a fucking good reason to divorce!" I got the feeling they were showing off for me. I sat quietly, my eyes closed, just listening. I didn't pretend I wasn't. They talked about club hopping: First Bourbon, a dance club, then Twist, which is a sports bar they likened to a frat house (They hated it). They then said they topped the evening off at a "homo" bar before imbibing so much alcohol they blacked out. I got the feeling they were on a Zoo tour. But then I thought. It must really be hard to be an intelligent women raised in a paternal culture, living in a world dominated by arrogant white men, and no real hope of affecting real change. I hope they find a way. They deserve it, and the only real advice I'd give them is black out drinking has no real upside. As a product of the Charles Bukowski school of experience, I should know. Having said that, I'm the luckiest guy on the planet. I have a Bunny who loves me, a grace that surrounds me, and book of life experience that promotes humility. Therefore, I can only conclude that life is good, especially today.
My Bunny, otherwise known as the "Wiley Cager". (Young Mormon girls: take note.)
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