How Much Is The Dildo In The Window?

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A Stream Of Consciousness Adventure From The Land Of Addictive Consumerism

[Editors Note: The following post is by Jim Karger, TDV legal correspondent]

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I am sitting in traffic, stopped dead still on I-35 South, going from Dallas to Laredo, Texas, where I will cross the border into Mexico at about five tomorrow morning headed for home. I have my left hand on the wheel while I type with my right hand. A 1.75 ml Bombay Sapphire Gin bottle, nearly full, sits comfortably between my legs for use in case of an emergency, one I sense could present itself at any moment. I am ready to travel, but going nowhere, an apt metaphor for this screed. In the spirit of Jack Kerouac, I will write this as it happens, stream of consciousness, with occasional hideous reflections.

Since I arrived in America five days ago, I have experienced a progressive loss of self-control. After writing the Twinkie piece for TDV and shipping it off to my editor, Redmond Weissenberger an evil drunk with a heart of gold who graciously continues to post my ramblings, I have been sliding, surely but elegantly, toward the abyss. My degradation has been rapid, disturbing, but mostly noticeable.

My normal morning regimen of Syntha-6, oatmeal, and coffee followed by a brisk jog to the gym was quickly replaced here with Wild Turkey, tap water, and a greasy Otis Spunkmeyer muffin followed by a high speed drive to 7-11 to buy Powerball tickets and Cheetos. I am not sure of the source of that abnormal psychology but I sense it has something to do with the endemic and contagious need to be like all the rest.

Last night I reached into my coat pocket for the phone and came out with six dozen receipts. What I bought I can’t remember, but that was my credit card number and those were my signatures. Even now, after days of what appears to have been an uncontrolled buying orgy, my SUV stands still and silent on this highway, stuffed with all manners of stuff, a monument to ugly human consumption. It isn’t surprising that shopping is now a recognized addiction in the Diagnostic Manual of Psychological Disorders. I will add it to my other notable afflictions.

Just stopped at a Shell station to pee and saw some “deer corn” in 50 pound bags for sale and really considered buying two bags until I remembered that I don’t know what deer corn is for, although I am certain that if there had been a couple of deer loitering in the parking lot that I would have bought corn for them. I did, however, buy a Powerball ticket with the “cash option” that pays $278,343,674 dollars. I fantasize about returning one day and rewarding the little lady who sold it to me with a half-million dollars in pocket change.

Even what I fantasize about has changed in less than a week.

Before I got on the road again, I opened the tailgate and was nearly injured by a case of falling fire extinguishers. I don’t remember buying them, but I comfort myself in knowing that I am unlikely to die in a car fire. I apparently also own a new set of 221 tools complete with toolbox, and a case of Magnum condoms which makes me laugh. I could pull one of those over my other head, rob a liquor store, and no one would recognize me.

Still haven’t made it to Waco, but just had a flashback. It was me kicking a fatty off her electric red scooter in Wal-Mart and racing to the flat screen TVs. I thought I was hallucinating from boredom until I looked in my rearview mirror and spotted the box marked ‘Sharp Aquos 60″ LED.’ I will always be haunted by the look on that fat girl’s face as I ran over her fingers in the race to video.

 

Just passed another car accident, complete with law enforcement enforcing some law against one of the victims who was being handcuffed face down in the dirt. Bet he will drive carefully in the future if he is not raped and killed in the Wise county jail tonight.

“Focus, you moron!” I heard myself yell out loud. That poor bastard got his ass kicked to the curb for following too close. What do you think they would do to you with a gin bottle and a straw between your legs after you run a fully armored SUV up the poop shoot of a Texas State trooper? What would be your defense, counselor?

“Well, your honor, I was writing this story here as I was driving and I was afraid there would be an emergency.”

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Jesus, that should get me 10 years of hard labor in a Texas pound-me-in-the-ass prison.

Am approaching Austin now, rolling between zero and 90 miles an hour, getting harder to type, and am wondering how I am going to declare all this crap at customs after I cross the border. The Mexican government doesn’t want much, but they do want the easy money and will ask, “What did you buy while in the US?” as they stare at my pile back there.

“Uh, I don’t know, officer,” won’t sound good, even south of the border.

Where’s my straw?

A black guy who looked a lot like Gary Gibson in a four door Porsche (not SUV) with dealer tags just passed me at about 130 miles-an-hour on the shoulder. I can see it all now. Texas Cop: “Them’s nice wheels boy . . . if they’s yours.”

Keep your eyes on the road, Jim, and stop thinking all this crazy shit.

And, therein lies the problem. It is crazy, but it is also plausible.

The entire experience of scavenging here has dulled my normal fox-like focus, so much so that I now feel like a lobotomized hyena who acts crazy and dangerous, but can’t figure out why.

Just passed an outdoor mall and I call bullshit on the economic recovery. Yeah, I know I had to stomp a fat ass for a TV, but that was a one-time error in judgment. No one can explain all this empty retail space. I am passing entire strip centers stripped bare of merchants.

Ooh, there’s an Ikea. If I had more time I would stop and replace the cocktail tumblers Berwick threw into my fireplace the last time he showed up drunk at my door and I made the mistake of letting him in. I just want to buy something, but what I need is to make it to the border before my sanity or my credit card experiences a catastrophic failure.

XXX store on the right. Hmmmm. I bet a vibrator that plugs into the dryer socket would make a nice gift for the ladies.

Pulling into the Red Roof Inn Laredo now. Just got to hold it together until I can get across the border in the morning. But, holding it together is relative. I am a rank amateur compared to the shopping pros who will beat the crap out of each other for a phone or a pair of panties. I am loathe to consider what these people will do when the prize is not a trinket but food to feed their faces and their families.

Well, I must run. I want to make it to Best Buy tonight before it closes.

Jim Karger is TDV’s legal correspondent and the TDV concierge for San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, where he and his wife have lived for 11 years. If you are interested in knowing more or visiting San Miguel de Allende, recently rated as the #1 City in Mexico and the 8th Best City in the World by Conde Naste, contact Jim at jimkarger@runbox.com and join the San Miguel de Allende group available to TDV premium subscribers.

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avatarThe Dollar Vigilante - The Dollar Vigilante posted Monday, November 26th, 2012.

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