Pungsnotded

 Albatross! He pulls the car over on the Pontchartrain bridge to get a better look. Never mind telling him those are seagulls, he is Allen France and this is all he knows. We get some Mim’s Vodka and a two liter of cola and our New Orlean’s diet begins. The first night we were sitting on a bench right on the boardwalk and we saw the face of the devil. I started to speak, asked for a cigarette. Damn, that was one of the scariest faces I had ever seen! One afternoon, a hippie gave us a the biggest can of pork and beans I had ever seen. Forget about utensils, we needed to eat. Someone gave us some plastic spoons, and Allen just couldn’t keep his britches up. 90% penis 10% hair. The spoon worked well, to fling the beans down the back of his pants, while he did a silly dance. We were on the same brain/mind wavelength those days. Just survival and jokes, that is what those days were. Plaster falling on our heads while we slept in the abandoned shoe factory. The caveman guttural grunting and searching for something to drink. He always made sure that I drink some water. Every single day. It got real hot one afternoon and our fifth was gone. We passed out on the rocks. I felt some cold fingers wiping my face. My eyes cracked open, and my brother says, “Don’t worry, it’s sunscreen.” A day later, my sweat tasted just like vanilla pudding, and my cheeks cracked when I smiled. I will never ever ever forget Allen’s giggle when it dawned on me that it was Vanilla pudding cracked over my sunburnt face. Mim’s vodka, some soda, and then some water. I remember the bright red hot dogs, and sleeping in the back of the station wagon, waking up drenched in sweat. I never had a better friend than I had in Allen those days. Someone who didn’t try. What I wouldn’t give to be stretched out on those warm rocks and laughing and drinking and smoking and laughing!