Dan x Dan in Rhode Island Day Two: Out & About

2 October 2017

It’s 6:30 and I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here. I need something. I’m going out of my mind here. I need to see that video. More importantly, I need to check in with Peaches so I’m not nagged at later. I don’t know why she worries like she does about me, but it’s easier to ease her worry than to fight it. 

Despite the cool of the morning, the warmish pink and gold tones of the rising sun are inviting. They’re calling out to me. “Danny, come play with us.” I can’t wait much longer. I need to get out. I slide the door open and step out into the cool morning air. There's no way this nice cool air is going to stick around. I head to the closest bus stop that heads into Providence this early only to find the bus driver sitting eating pork rinds. Who eats pork rinds, let alone at 7 in the morning? He sees me approaching the bus and says something through the closed doors. Thankfully I can read lips. "You can't get on, not in service." Well, fuck me. I step to the side and sit down on a park bench only to shoot up moments later, my ass dripping. Right, it rained last night. I don't know why it didn't occur to me that the bench would be wet or even compute that it rained last night. I walked through the damp grass on the way to the bus stop.
After about a 10 minute wait the bus roars to life and the door opens. He couldn't have mentioned that the bus leaves on the hour? I get on and swipe my change card from the day before. It accepts payment, subtracting today's fare and I take a seat close to the front of the bus. I need to memorise all this so I remember where to get off tonight. I put my earbuds in and bathe in the soothing voice of Papa Emeritus and his nameless ghouls' spine arousing melodies. I ride in silence, watching and observing the scenery and my fellow bus jockies. It's all boring until a girl who looks just like John Belushi boards the bus. I nearly drop my iPad in excitement as I take her in. Minus the tits, she's a dead ringer for Belushi in The Blues Brothers. I want to shake her hand, but I think that might offend her. I'm forced to stifle my giggles and desires into a Satanic chant.

40 minutes later we arrive in the heart of the city and I'm ready for adventure. The architecture around the area reminds me of some of the buildings in Paris. I enjoy a few moments of fond remembrances before adjusting my camera lens and snapping off a few photos. 


Kennedy Plaza is right in front of the courthouse, which I find interesting. I always laugh at the value Americans place on John F Kennedy. What fucking legacy did he really leave? He was a playboy scumbag who repeatedly cheated on his wife and somehow he's an America icon? Sure he did some okay work on civil rights but I think his shittiness outweighs the good and anyway he probably had a team behind him. That's another thing that strikes me. All these statues projecting justice, implying that justice will truly reign. Wrong. It only rains about half the time and even then it's hit or miss at best with what you get. These are childish concepts that have no business in modern society. I'll never understand why a jury is needed at all if there is concrete evidence that someone committed a crime. Maybe it's just to feed into the illusion that the people are in charge or feed into some sort of pathetic, low-IQ narcissism. People need to be more realistic about justice and the whole idea of a legal system. I think so many of them need an overhaul. Cut out a lot of the middlemen and save time, money, frustration and hey maybe even stop some crime in the process. Many people who are called to serve on a jury are often left frustrated and or bad-tempered and something's bound to go wrong with that. Laughing at the idea of the proceedings that are beginning to commence behind the large, heavy doors of the courthouse, I make my way down the side street and toward the canal. I'm always drawn to water. I love swimming, there's always something mystical and freeing about water. Looking down and seeing the murky forest green of the water doesn't deter me from wanting to jump into it. The sun bathes it in a cold white light. Something about it doesn't seem right. Like someone's switched the sun with a light from a surgical theatre. I don't like it. 

I remember what the spider-boob woman said about the historical landmarks, so I decide to take them in. I snake around the office drones and self-important art school students and up into the higher hill of the city. The view is wonderful. It reminds me of the beautiful hills of Prague. Red bricks paid centuries before I was born lead the way to a gorgeously adorned church. The sky is a warm summer periwinkle and is cloudless. giving the church a perfect backdrop. I love being behind the camera, capturing my vision is a pressing on me. I check my angles several times before actually taking a photo. Satisfied with the first one, I'm encouraged to try new viewpoints. It's been a while since I've experimented with my camera. It feels good. Stimulating. Not really life-affirming, but then again I don't think I've ever had those feelings.

People don't even notice me as I wander the streets. It's like I'm a ghost. I love it. I live and breathe in silence. For almost mid-morning some of the streets are oddly silent. It feels more a like a Sunday morning than a Monday one. I love the quite. I allow my thoughts to drift over me, wander. I'm feeling rather....historian? I wander up and down the old streets taking photos and filming. I head to a little memorial park area with a fountain and take a breather. The city reminds me of Philadelphia too. I love old Philly. I'm a real history whore at heart, history of all types really. I overlook the city, watching people and cars move. I watch their lives more in an almost slow motion. I imagine where they're going, who they are and how they'll die. I head through the school of design "campus' seeking new thrills. If this is what the design school is turning out, I'm really not all that impressed. 

I need to get groceries. I've not seen a grocery store the entire time I've been wandering through the city. Where are they hiding these things? I manage to find a wifi connection and search for them. The closest one with a bakery is miles away; too far away for me to walk. I get onto the bus and sit next to an elderly lady that smells like lavender. "My, you have a lot of pictures on you!" I pull out one of my earbuds. "Oh, haha, yeah. I guess I do." A large man sitting across from me stops eating his BBQ flavoured sunflower sees to engage with me. "How many would you say you have?" "I've got about half a body suit now. Well over 100 I'd imagine." He leans back and lets out a low whistle. "Damn. You must be tough." "Why is that?" "Because I got one up here on my shoulder and it hurt like a bitch. I couldn't take the pain and that's why I never got another one." I chuckle. "I've got my face done as you can see. Then from my throat all the way down. Both feet, both sides of my ribs too." "What's the longest you sat?" "12 hours." "Did you take any bathroom breaks." Out of all the questions, he could have asked, he asks that one. I chuckle again, this time a little louder. "No. I sat and he did and we knocked out the tattoo. No stops." His eyes widen. "You've got balls, kid. You've got balls. How old are you?" I see no reason to lie. "Twenty-six." "And you've got all that work done?" I nod. It strikes me that I do have quite a lot of tattoos, I've spent so much time under the needle and I crave more of it. "Whats with the one on your hand? That eyeball there? That's tight." I look down. "Does that mean that's the last thing they'll see before you knock them out?" I like that idea. "Oh no, I just liked it. I thought it complimented my hand." "You're right. You're too nice to do something like that." He says it with such conviction, but I'm not convinced. I know better.

The bus man leaves me so many things to think about. Who I am. My identity. What's going to happen when this chapter of my life ends tomorrow. I need to think. Clear my head. I put on the Dexter series soundtrack and let the melodies carry me away. I don't care where the bus is going. I can always ride it to the end of the line and back into the city if I forget to get off. I don't know if it's how the light shines through the trees or the calming of the melodies running through my veins but my thoughts drift away. The bus fades and the music fades out and I'm 8 years old looking up through maple trees. The red and orange colours of the leaves are illuminated by the autumn sun. I'm in a blanket of colour. The world feels safe. The woods surround me as I make my way down the dirt path to my mate's house. Time isn't a concept. It's not something I ever think about. The silence cloaks me and hangs to my navy blue winter jacket. I know that I should get Justin first before I play on his little orange and blue slide, but I just want some alone time on it. I don't want to share. I climb up and slide down landing in a pile of leaves. I lay there, the cool Earth surrounding me, the sounds of the woods breathing life into me and- the bus jerks. Not there yet. I have time. The scene melts away and opens with a different view of the woods. I'm still 8. I'm laying on the floor of the woods, the warmth of the sun beating down on me. My curls blend into the dirt and decaying leaves giving me the appearance of mermaid hair. I'm calm. I just breathe. I feel the soreness of my spine radiating through me. I don't know how far I've fallen. It all happened so fast. I rewind and watch it in slow motion. I didn't see anything but blurs of colour. I didn't hear anything either. I didn't fear anything. It felt amazing. A pure adrenaline rush. Its so-the bus jerks again.I look up and realise I've missed my stop and my music has stopped playing. I couldn't have gone too far. I pull the cord and get off at the next stop. I thank the driver and jump down onto a dusty road. The continuous feeling of June continues to amaze me.

I restart the soundtrack and continue down the street, the sun beating down on me. Bloody hell, I should have known better than to wear this zip hoodie. I push the sleeves up all the way to my elbows and the extra fabric pools around them. I'm almost swimming in cloth. The supermarket I wanted to go to comes into focus on the right and I sigh with relief. I want to get out of this fucking sun. Slinking into the shade of the building, I pull out my iPhone and see if I can connect to wifi. Yes. They have it free. I can finally watch that YouTube video that's been weighing on my mind for almost 20 hours. I grab a trolly, plop my rucksack into the top and walk into the store. I pull over to an empty corner near the produce and nut section to watch the video. It was a mistake. He looks completely ridiculous. Phil really doesn't have any shame. (I've linked the video down below so if you're interested you can watch it.) I manage to hold it together through his first few outfits, but loose it completely when he comes out dressed as a wedge of cheese with burger slippers, underpants showing. I have to grasp the trolly for support I'm laughing so hard. People stop to stare at me but I can't hold it in. "Holy fuck!" I snort with laughter. In my peripheral vision, I see a mother pull her daughter away from me and that only makes me laugh harder.

Dan's laughter in the background of the video only makes it better. I need a laugh track of his insane, uncontrollable laughter. I really do. I'm-I look up and see 15 people staring at me, some confused, some scared and the others curious. I smile shyly and move along. My stomach hurts from laughing. I need to watch this again. Holy shit. I shuffle down the aisles, selecting things and stop when I see a massive Halloween candy display. Halloween is my season. It might just be my reason for being. I am down with all things spooky. I grab a few candies to try and some that I've had before. This is going to be amazing. I check out at the automated machine so I don't have to deal with that phoney 'have a nice day' bullshit and shuffle out to catch the bus with my two grocery bags. I've not done much, but I feel like I've accomplished a great feat.

I make it back to the rental property dripping with sweat. I hate this shit. I am ready for autumn. Take me back to autumn weather, please. A few days ago I was in flannel leggings and a hoodie, not I'm about to have a heatstroke. I arrive back to the rental to see the owner is home. I sit in silence listening to him and daughter go over her school work together and eat. Memories. Almost 20 years ago was the last time I had that experience and it was only a handful of times, maybe less. I listen to him curse trying to figure out one of the answers in her English assignment. I know what it is, having heard her ask him, but I stay silent behind the glass wall. They can't know I'm listening. That would be creepy and rude. Maybe they shouldn't talk so loud. I jump onto the bed and put on Dexter. He's such an inspiration at times. I love the books, I love the show. Michael C. Hall is a true talent, a gem that's often underappreciated. My cheesey bagel tastes even better as I watch him dump a corpse into the Gulf Stream. Ah, this is the life, really. 

Tomorrow has my head spinning. A new chapter will begin. What will I become? Will I become anything? I cuddle up with Pork Chop and together we sink into a serenade of crickets' cries and ocean waves.

Watch Phil's video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DJd4AG7h03Y