On the side of I-25 in Raton, NM I ate a surprisingly delicious Subway veggie sandwich, drank some water and waited for a ride until a whale of a yellow banana of a boat of a Buick stopped right in front of me. When the window rolled down the chubby, mustachioed man in the driver’s seat said, “I’m just taking my sister’s car out for a spin so I can’t take you far but I can take you up to a different exit where you’ll probably have a better chance of getting a ride.” I said that that would be cool and hopped into the car.
“My name’s Sam.”
“Joe.” I replied and stuck out my hand.
“Yeah, I just got this car from my sister and I was taking out for a little test drive. It drives like shit, but when’s the last time you saw one of these?” said Sam, pointing out the 8-track tape player in the console.
“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an 8-track player. Just the tapes at the thrift store and whatnot.” I answered.
“Yeah, probably before your time.” said Sam. “That really shows my age. Doesn’t it? Well, this is it; you should be able to get a ride in no time.”
“Hey, before you go,” he said. Then in whisper, “got any pot?”
“No, man. Shit, I wish”
“What kind of a hitchhiker are you? How you gonna be hitchhiking with no pot?” said Sam. “Look, I’ve got some back at the house and was gonna smoke before I go to work. You want to come by for a few minutes and I’ll smoke you out?”
Never one to pass up free herb, I responded with a very appreciative yes. I relaxed in my seat as we continued through the exit and into town. I can’t remember what it was that had initially tipped me off, but I was beginning to notice that Sam had not just a gay but a flamboyantly gay way about both his mannerisms and speech. I’m not one of those people who are bothered by homosexuality or believe that it is against god’s way. The fact of the matter is that any species of animal has large increases in homosexual behavior in its population when said population becomes too large. That is nature’s way of population control. Anyone who is scared of being turned gay through association or whatever are usually the deep closet homosexuals. The guys who worship athletes and action stars and looking fresh, most of those guys secretly hope for more intimate relationships with those men in their circles that they admire. I don’t hate because I don’t question my sexuality.
We get to Sam’s house and it is very decorated. I mean like something exploded. Actually, it was kind of cool because everywhere you looked there was something to look at. On the walls were your typical Catholic imagery; Mother Mary, Jesus, angels, crosses, etc. But that only accounted for a small amount of what filled this main room of the house. There were pictures of men kissing on the wall, quite a few, and also pictures of male strippers. Most notable in the room, however, was the profundity of chickens.
Chickens, chickens everywhere, this guy had all kinds. There were rubber chickens, wooden chickens, ceramic chickens, chicken paintings, chicken vases, books about chickens, chickens on cups, plates. Definitely this was the largest collection of chicken memorabilia I have ever seen and most likely ever will see. Oh yeah, there were also a lot of gourds. They were painted up to look like geese or swans. Some had been made into birdhouses or were awaiting being worked on.
Sam went into another room and retrieved a handful of herb and a pipe. This was handed to me to clean and load. Sam got me a beer and asked me if I wanted to watch a movie while we smoked. “Sure. But I won’t be able to stay and watch it all. Daylight’s wastin’.” I said.
“Oh, yeah, that’s cool. I have to be at work in about forty-five minutes anyway. So we wouldn’t be able to watch the whole thing. This is just for while we smoke.”
He grabbed a tape and put it in the VCR. If I had not already known that Sam was gay, I would have found out at this point. On the screen of the TV are two men and one girl having sex. The girl seemed to be their mostly in order to moisten the dicks with a little fellatio in between ass pumping sessions. This was actually pretty funny to watch while I smoked the bowl.
For the most part it was just me smoking the bowl. No problems there. This green was fantastic! I commented to Sam about it and he said that he grows it himself at a spot in the mountains outside of town. That’s the way to go right there. Grow your own and you never have to deal with the bullshit weed game. On top of that you save money (vast sums of money if you’re anything like me in your smoking habits).
The herb is not all that Sam talked about. He spoke of the reason for the chickens. “Hey, I was born in the year of the cock, I love cock, and I love eating cock in more ways than one!” he had explained enthusiastically. He told me that he had once been married to a woman and had a daughter but that things didn’t work out because he fucked her brother or something. He mentioned how he still sometimes enjoyed fucking women, though not as much as men. He talked about how he grew gourds in his backyard then would harvest and paint them and sell them at the flea market. One of the gourds he showed me as an example. It was painted to look like a penis. “You’ve probably got one about this big.” said Sam.
Awkward. “Umm, I don’t know about all that.”
“Oh, you’re just being modest.” He’s right, I was. However, I did not feel that he should get to find that out.
He broke me off some more herb to puff on and let me know that he was going to get ready for work. Prior to his leaving the room, Sam asked, “Before I take you back, would you like to get your dick sucked or anything?”
“I’m not really into dudes, sorry” I said.
“That’s all right. I just thought I’d ask.” said Sam as he left the room to go masturbate and get ready for work. I loaded another bowl and laughed about the whole crazy situation.
Sam came out of the room all ready to go to work in his white butcher’s outfit. In his hand I noticed he had a rolled up bundle of white butcher’s paper. Showing it to me he said, “I’ve found that when I harvest my weed it dries a lot better when I roll it up in this stuff as opposed to hang drying it.” He lay it down on the counter and without unwrapping it cut off about an inch and a half from the end with a large knife. “This I just harvested the other day and it still needs to dry for a couple of days longer.
Never one to turn down free weed, I thanked Sam profusely and put the pot into my bag. It was now time for Sam to drop me off back at the highway and head to work as the best gay butcher in Raton. He took me to the spot he had mentioned when he initially picked me up and said if I ever changed my mind about gay sex to look him up and also to avoid the town of Springer. Springer was the state juvenile DOC thus there were signs posted everywhere not to pick up hitchhikers. I told him goodbye and thank you and have a good time at work then stuck my thumb out once again.