"Get a job, queer!"

That was the rather enlightening comment I received in Midland, Texas from a dickless douchbag yelling out of his truck as he passed me on the side of the road. I just kind of stared at him as he passed, not really registering what had just happened but now that I've had a moment to process it there's a couple things I'd like to say.

First of all, I have a job. It's called being awesome full-time.

Secondly, I'm not so sure the "queer" part of that comment was necessary. Ok, yes, I've been spending so much time in the sun lately that my hair has turned at least three shades blonder, making it look like I recieved highlights recently. Add the fact that I smile at all the drivers and give them a big friendly wave when they make eye contact with me and sure, I can understand how all that could look a little gay.

Also I do occationally sing and dance to artists such as Adele and Jack Johnson while I'm waiting for vehicles, but still! The bigotry...

Not two cars after "get a job, queer," I got my first middle finger (surprising that it took three weeks to happen), giving me the brief impression that people from west Texas are just a bunch of assholes. I say brief because only ten minutes later a car stopped and handed me a McDonald's bag with a Quarter Pounder with Cheese and a large fry so we cool west Texas.

I was happy when a trucker stopped and took me 50 miles away from heckler avenue. Twenty minutes after that I secured a ride with an El Paso Mexican who took me 260 miles through the desert and into my destination (like a boss). Now I'm sippin on Shiner Bocks at my CouchSurfing hosts house here in El Paso, Texas.

I just skipped over an entire day so let me backtrack a little bit.

I left Arlington, Texas for Midland, Texas, a city named because of its location between El Paso and Dallas. My trip to Midland had its ups and downs. First, there was the hot, hot, dear god holy moly HOT Latina girl who picked me up on a road I wouldn't expect anyone to pick me up on. It was a fast and busy entrance ramp, and cars zoomed by without even looking over at me. When I asked her why she even stopped for me she said that she'd want someone to if she were in my position.

She was my age, strapped with a pistol, street smart as all hell, and did I mention hot?  She took me 40 miles down the road on the way to work and dropped me off on a much better road than where she picked me up.

Soon after Steven took me halfway to my destination. Steven's ride was a down moment of my journey. It started off alright with us entering a very interesting conversation about healthcare for the elderly, how the world has changed since the great depression (he owned a nursing home), and life in west Texas. All was well for about an hour and a half, but in the last half hour of the ride I noticed that he was stroking his thy while he was talking with me, seemingly unconciously. No reason to panic, I thought, and continued chatting only slightly disturbed by the thy-stroking. When he asked, "what do you do about sex?" out of the blue, red flags went up in my head. I rolled my eyes, laughed, and told him that I did alright (I'm paraphrasing), then I looked out the window in a clear end-of-conversation kind of way. A little later he said something that raised another red flag. He was a Texan but he absolutely hated how all Texans needed to have a big truck, he said. "I don't need a truck, I have a big dick!" Ok, now I'm bothered by this guy. I happen to agree with his big truck, small dick comment but that whole thy-stroking thing put me on alert mode.

Obviously nothing happened, and although I was on high alert for the last thirty minutes of the ride I didn't feel nervous. For one, I felt in control of the conversation. Also I had a rape whistle, pepper spray, and two knives, all of which I was ready and willing to use if this creep tried anything. I hopped out of the vehicle in Abilene, about halfway to my destination and had a Denny's luch.

My next ride was a pickup truck, which was AWESOME! Best part about pickups is that you get to zoom past all the fuckers who gave you dirty looks. I listened to my iPod as my driver sped at 80 miles an hour past everyone on the road and couldn't help by laugh myself silly.

I hopped out of the pickup in Midland, small talked with my driver a bit (he offered me a job as an electrician), then called my CouchSurfing host up and was picked up within minutes.

Lots I could say about Randall, my host (the toilet paper at his house was even softer than at my gay host's house), but I feel I've rambled on for long enough already.

I'm in El Paso, heading to Santa Fe tomorrow, and by Friday I'll be chilling with Emily up in Loveland Colorado!

From the U.S.-Mexico border, estoy signing out!

In a truck heading in the direction of...