it doesn’t take long in memphis to be propositioned by a hooker. it takes quite a bit longer, in fact, to find a hotel when there are three conventions in town. but the resourceful among you will have no problem using what God puts in front of you to find what you need. i had the hooker, so i used the hooker. are you curious how that might go down (pardon the pun)? a transcript:
hooker: “hey, boy, whatchoo doin walkin all by yoself?”
me: “well, i’m a long way from home and i don’t really know anyone here.”
hooker: “we could fix that problem pretty quick.”
me: “i reckon i’ll fix it just fine once i find a bar, thanks.”
hooker: “so you lookin for some company?”
me: “no, thank you, i’m just looking a cheap hotel.” [pause while the obvious dawns on me] “do you know of any?”
hooker: “king’s cross is the cheapest downtown, no doubt about it. i’ll walk you there.”
me: “why don’t you just tell me where it is? i’m sure you’ve got a busy night ahead of you.”
and that, as they say, was that.
now, king’s cross is not a beautiful place. it’s right by the greyhound station; just close enough, in fact, to catch all the strange and slightly unsettling smells that always seem to go along with bus stations. i was amazed to find a tv in the room, especially after i saw the “bathroom.”
good lord. never have i seen a bathroom in worse condition. the sink, the counter and the mirror were all cracked; the soap, still in its wrapper, looked like it hadn’t been touched in more than a few years and was now supporting a micro-culture of its own. it was with incredible reluctance, and only because i’d spent the last night sleeping on the snow, that i used the shower. i wish i’d had a body condom.
after a quick (!) shower, i needed to get out the hotel and find some dinner. i headed to beale st. here i encountered the first of the convention groups: a posse of country music DJ’s, in town for a st. jude’s fundraiser, was heading to an open bar. without any hesitation, so was i.
it wasn’t too early, but beale was dead when we got there. pretty much the only thing happening was this party. but the alcohol and appetizers were free. bingo. i was there for about half an hour before i realized i was actually starving for some real food. when i was seated upstairs, i ended up joining a couple at another table and passed the time learning about the second conference in town. they had come from asheville, nc, to take part in a free media event. that’s ‘free’ in the sense of ‘independent from the mainstream and actually compelling and interesting.’ by the end of the night we were joined by another solo traveller, this one a fellow just out of stanford. he used big words inside of long sentences. show-off.
the couple ended up giving us some tickets to the media conference opening party. we went. we partied. the people there made me realize where i truly was on the dork-meter. still pretty low. we tried beale st. again late-night, but there just was not a lot of activity. most of the bars were near empty and there was a distinct lack of people playing the blues, which was oddly sad.
in the morning, i drove around downtown and a little bit outside of memphis. it’s a pretty beat-up city. it’s far from pretty and easy to understand why everyone’s got the blues all the time. the weather was fairly nice, but other than that, i wouldn’t want to live here.
off to biloxi!!
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