I thought that, if she wanted to be with me, she would find a way to Jacksonville. She knows how to find the campspot. If, on the other hand, she preoccupied herself with panhandling and getting drunk, she would probably not have the resources nor the wherewithal to find her way to my spot.
I am waiting 7 to 14 days for the arrival of my birth certificate, which I finally managed to order on Monday, through the Vital Statistics office in Dorchester, Ma.
The cost was $28 for the certificate, $37 for 'expedited mail," which reduced the wait time from 20-30 days, down to 7-14.
I decided to play the ramps near the departure point of the Purple Line to St. Augustine during the day, and take the last Purple bus out at 5:20 pm. with whatever money I made, added to the 21 bucks that I had left, after sending the Commonwealth of Massachusetts almost 40 bucks.
The ramp playing went ridiculously. I was run off of one after 10 minutes and 3 bucks. I was run off of the next after 10 minutes and another 3 bucks.
They were still there.
They are like big pieces of aluminum foil, supposedly impossible to rip and purported to reflect back 98 percent of one's body heat and keep a person alive in sub-zero temperatures. I rolled myself up like a burrito in them and found that I was warm enough to sleep.
I set my alarm for 7:30, thinking that I would go and hide in the woods near the jail and wait for the emergence of a figure wearing an ocean-blue shirt covered with depictions of various fishes of the sea on it.
I couldn't sleep, and was debating upon just going back to Jacksonville in the morning; still not sure if I wanted to encounter Karrie, for fear of falling back into the same life of ennui.
I listened to Michael Savage on the radio, on one of the only stations which came in upon my AM radio. Maybe the cold had something to do with that, but, I could get New Orleans, and Atlanta fairly well, but not Jacksonville, and hardly St. Augustine.
Savage was ranting about the illegal immigrants and the havoc which they are reaking upon this nation. He said that they comprise one third of Federal inmates, in for rape and murder and drug trafficking; he said that the hospitals on the border are having to close because of illegals obtaining services that they are not entitled to. He also said that the school systems are stressed because of them, too.
The New Orleans station was drifting in and out and, every time Savage had some interesting point to make about the Mexican immigrants, the station faded out, and in faded Hispanic music from a neighboring Latino station.
Karrie Shows Up
Morning came, myself only having been saved from being covered in dew by the space blanket, and the alarm sounding at 7:30 am. It was too cold, in my opinion to go to a spot in the woods to spy upon the jail, waiting for a fish-shirt clad figure to emerge. I tried to go back to sleep. The sun was coming up and was a warming factor. I eventually sat up and drank some caffeine.
We hugged and kissed and exchanged stories.
Then, she wanted to get some beer.
She had gotten out of jail and had already panhandled one. She wanted more.
I am at the library now, planning upon playing the ramp until such a time that the last bus out of here will come by that spot.