Truck's Fixed / Everybody Dances

Truck seems good for now anyway. On Stock Island, $380 will buy you a three night stay at a repair shop, two new batteries (main and backup), and a long and possibly coked-up story about 499 trophies.

I don't have much Truck House specific news, so I'm just going to start sharing moments that give a picture of what it's like here in Key West for me. I do have one specific story that is closely related to vehicle living though. I had my first police encounter.

I had about 4 beers on the beach after work. Two big beers in reality. One bottle one can. (Clap your hand). Then I zipped out to Stock Island, which is the next island up from Key West, to get into Truck House. I was opening the lock and rolling up the back door when a police cruiser pulled in behind me pretty fast. His main concern was to establish that I was a person, and this was my truck. I showed him my ID so he knew I was real. It was clear that I hadn't jimmy'd the lock. Basically it was 4am and he saw me with the city bike (highly suspect bum-machine) and thought I might be breaking in. I told him I live with the brazilian guys who I ride the pedicabs with, but I was crashing here 'cause I didn't want to impose on them tonight. The cop was pretty nice about it, and gave me zero bullshit. He asked to look inside, and I rolled up the door so he could stick his flashlight in there. He even said something like "cool setup." This encounter went as good as possible because I gave short reasonable answers and kept my fucking mouth shut at every opportunity. Then I got in and burned some incense to try to get rid of the wood and paint smell. That's starting to work for me.

Right now, flash forward to truck-is-fixed, I'm parked in my A-list spot with the roll up door halfway up. It's fine. I'm catching a breeze, there are people walking around and parking, nobody cares. I just watched a Key West rain storm - a long one at about 30 minutes. I also got about a two hour nap right here with the back door open and a modest breeze keeping me very comfortable. I'm settling in. I won't let myself be concerned with the police anymore. I'll do what I think is fair and reasonable, because I don't like being sneaky or scared, which I had an initial tendency to feel. Each day I plan like a dog. Sit around at one place until for some reason you get up and move - I roll around endlessly on a cheap bike. All of my time is spent outside, and the truck is there just to sleep in. I haven't had a real (long/hot) shower for 13 days, and I don't care. I haven't had electricity, and I haven't needed it. My little 3 AA battery lantern is on the original batteries, and I'm making enough money to buy whatever I want. Cuban sandwiches. I ate two of the best sandwiches down here. Best ingredients, then they get smooshed flat in a special industrial strength Forman grill. I danced around a little bit on the end of the pier last night. This is a pretty easy place to "put in the time" as Huck Finn put it. "Dog my cats" as Jim might add.