Whoops. Overslept. Perhaps this was because I was awake until after 4am awaiting a phone call. Nevertheless, I quickly loaded all my gear back into the car, said goodbye to my bed (the couch) and the cats, wished Jet well and took off for Louisville.
At 12:08pm my phone started buzzing (and, by the way, I somehow managed to break my phone this week, so if I don’t get your call please don’t hate me) and the caller ID showed that it was good old Electrical Audio! We spoke for about ten minutes and I explained how when a situation is out of my control I have no right being mad or disappointed, and a new Albininterview (via phone) was scheduled for the afternoon of May 16th.
The drive was interesting. There was a ton of construction occurring on all the major highways that run in and out of Chicago (most notably the Dan Ryan Expressway, where five lanes were merging into one creating backups three-to-five hours long) so I took a “long cut” to get to I-65 South. Of course, 80/94 was also partially under construction but I made decent time thanks to my EZ-Pass, which apparently doubles as an I-Pass here in Illinois. Who knew! I mean–I think it doubled as an I-Pass. If I come home to a billion moving violation tickets I guess that’ll prove my theory to be false.
Indiana, on the other hand, was considerably more boring to drive through. Especially the part with the hour-long traffic jam behind an overturned 18-wheeler. Which was really awesome because I had to take a piss the whole time I was sitting with my engine off. Ordinarily, the sight of a huge truck on its side and a giant fucking crane trying to lift it upright would have filled me with glee and giddy chuckles, but I had to take a piss so fucking badly I just couldn’t enjoy it.
The next exit after the accident was a town called Brownstown (name is important), where I took the off ramp and pulled into a Shell station. It was 6:30pm (time is important) as I raced through the gas station to the bathroom, which was absolutely littered with graffiti. My favorite of course, was this gem:
Damn! If only the traffic jam would’ve backed me up for another 90 minutes…
I met Brooke just at the Eastern Parkway exit ramp and followed her to her new apartment. Once my belongings were inside we walked up to Bardstown Road and decided to eat at a place called The Bistro. We had a good meal and chatted a bunch about our travels (she was recently in Paris), art, writing, and music. After the walk back to her house we sat on the kitchen floor in her barren apartment, burning one another’s CDs and getting drunk on red wine, imperial stout and apricot weizen. A little after two it’s bedtime.
