Post Titled: RUBY TOWN
NON-FICTION, last night- Midnight-4:30 am.







excerpt...
...after we had been in Ruby Town for about 4 hours I started to get a bit delirious, so we sort of went to a more deserted area and sat in a triangular shaped arrangement of log benches amongst some of the old camper trailers (apparently empty or their occupants were sound asleep) when this couple slid back a fake wood panel door and i turned to look over my shoulder back through the camper door next to me at a fairly attractive, smiling, middle-aged blonde woman in bed with just a sheet wrapped around her chest, "oh, hallo!" she said- and mumbled something about how it was surprising to see people right out on the front step.
She asked me for the bottle of vodka on the ground by the trailer's front door- I picked it up and shook it back and forth to demonstrate its total emptiness"ist leer- aber war ich nicht!" It was empty when we arrived.


All there is to do in Ruby Town, so it seems, is drink, sink into confusion, and then drink more to numb the confusion... mh,
A man wearing only his tattoos guy climbs over her out of the darkness of the tiny camper sleeping space and goes into the other part of the living/kitchen room. Behind the bench next to me was a half bottle of wine- which someone had pushed the cork into to open, I handed it to the woman, who seemed quite grateful...
Sully and Charley are self-exiled to a far corner of the settlement where they continue to play the washtub bass and banjo...

I keep wandering- two men fly through the back door of the town's only resteraunt, they wrestle on the ground yelling and lightly abusing one another, a crowd gathers and one lets out a final tirade, then walks off- I see him later through a window spooning his wife on a bed, both of them watching a Cary Grant film.

The bartender will not stop mildly yet forcibly harassing me, I keep running into her! I see her all over town. Re-encounter, re-encounter. She is a straight-forward black girl with completely unidentifiable accent, braids going all over like coolio circa 1995, big steady eyes and a poker-face.
"Are you lost. What are you doing here? Who are you looking for now? Why are you here?"
she repeats over and over... I can't think, much less answer. I begin to hear birds begin and look up high above at the wood-panel sky and it's millions of wood-know hole stars, which Ania had pointed out to the authorities earlier.
We sit on stage, Ania speaks polish into an ancient microphone (which looks like an electric shaver) connected to a PA which I find off to the side, her Polish mumblings to herself about how we are off the map- as she flips through a map which is literally in tatters- reverberates throughout the end of town, I wonder if it is disturbing the sleeping-mumbling oracle in the chapel up above? It must because a girl confiscates the microphone...
Whereas at first I was just wandering into anyone's apartment, after a few hours of being scolded, interrogated- booted, strung along I was generally confused about where I should go/not go and what I should do/not do in this town...


signa.dk