No Plan. No Rudder. Nothin’ But Motion

I found myself piloting my car down Highway 11 towards Saskatoon yesterday at around 1:30pm and my predominant thought was, ‘didn’t know I’d be doing this 12 hours ago.’

Got into a conversation with Miranda, an old friend, and decided to come up for a beer.  Wasn’t sure if I’d spend the night or not, or where.  Didn’t care.  I needed to hit the road.  Needed to do something different.  Didn’t know why.  I just felt it.

Miranda and I have known each other four years.  She is a carnival and her circle of friends are side show acts.  She walks around and people get caught up in her wake.  They can never bring themselves to leave.  I suppose I’m one of them.  The only kinds of people NOT welcome, are disrespectful douche bags.

We only see each other a couple times a year.  You can say anything to Miranda.  Anything at all.  The more extreme, the better.  We met at the Spadina Freehouse and had a couple pints before I left for a hair cut.

The hairstylist was Lins’ sister Rochelle.  Remember Lins?  Mentioned her a couple of times in previous posts.  Anyway, Jazz, Lins, Rochelle and I were all hanging out last summer and next thing I know, Rochelle’s wrapping a bib around me and starts cutting my hair.  I pretended to be indignant, but in reality, I never got more complements on a haircut.

So since I was already in Saskatoon, I made a point of tracking Rochelle down.  Met at her salon and it was just the two of us (she kept it open late to fit me in).  She’s cutting on my hair and asked what I was doing in town.  I told her.  She asked if I had a place to stay and I mentioned I wasn’t sure.  Rochelle said, “well, you’re welcome to stay at my place… but no sex!”  We chuckled and I said I might take her up on the offer.

An hour later Rochelle and I were sitting around a table in a pub called the Fox & Hound with Miranda and her other friend, Reggie.  Reggie’s a 6’ 6” gay man with painted nails and a heavy lisp.  He works at a sex shop with Miranda and gets paid in tattoos.  Their other friend Tamsen was our server.  It was fun to watch Rochelle get sucked into Miranda’s wake.  Looks like the two will be sharing an apartment soon.  Amidst the carnival, we all danced across topics that would make a sailer blush.

A few hours later I was back at Rochelle’s place, inflating the air bed I dug out of my camping stuff from the trunk of my car.  It was only the second time ever seeing each other, and yet there we were, sharing our skeletons in a perfectly extreme conversation in her apartment.  A great way to end the evening.

She’s flying to LA on Monday to spend some much needed time with her long distance boyfriend Tom.  She’s moving to Australia in January to be with him.  Not sure when I’ll see her again, but it doesn’t really matter.  Life moves.  That’s what I liked the most about the last 24 hours.  No plan.  Just a lot of motion.

Gonna wrap this up.  It’s Saturday morning in a downtown Saskatoon Starbucks.  Miranda just texted.  Her sex shop is next door and she asked me to bring a coffee.

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