||[Jan. 30th, 2004|09:23 pm]
through the heart of the black widow they came to us, the egyptian women, to my doorstep from new mexico (we kid you not, we don't speak in code). they needed a shower and sleep for they had been driving all night and we obliged. upon awakening, they cooked exotic food for us using only the meager scraps on the shelves. they had a black widow spider in a jar which they fed live caterpillars. we struggled to open the hood of their car, struggled to get it started, the postman helped us jump start. at the mechanic a young man said they were giving away pit bull puppies down the street. we have a long drive from louisville to new york and it's already getting late. finally the sojourn begins, the three of us jammed into a vw cabriolet with all our belongings. soon the women start passing the whiskey back and forth, from behind the wheel to the back seat. we are in the passenger seat reminding ourselves that we are only here to help (as they say on friendster). we drive through west virginia mountains during icy snowfall at night, blinded yet calm. we refuse an offer to do indie porn: "I'll do it after I'm done fasting." we wonder how these women can exist on so little food. thirty miles outside of baltimore and we get pulled over by two female cops. we love the power of women, in all its forms. the vehicle is searched, leaving us to wonder about the weed in the backpack, the empty bottle of whiskey on the floor, the mushrooms in the purse, and most of all, the black widow in the mason jar. the blonde cop emerges from the vw with a baggy filled with sage, which they confiscate. we drive off laughing our collective asses off.