Wednesday January 11 2012


6:40 a.m. It’s the butt crack of dawn, but not even. The sun hasn’t risen yet as we drag out of the promoter’s flat and into the van.

Before we depart from the Mercedes Sprinter van we email Graham [tour manager] and Sam [driver] an Eiffel Tower photo I took of Dave's hand with the caption [Thanks for everything you f****n’ c**ts!]. An obvious bash at Sam for not taking us to the tower that night but still all in good fun...

Airport security shenanigans...

Taking the elevator lift, one of the dudes asks out right, “So are you gonna bang Margot once you get back?”

Me: “Wow. [Haha] What a question. No. But it’s probable...considering the deprivation experienced.”


Spending the last of my pounds on an over priced Orange Juice.


On the plane. In route to Boston. All of us are fortunate because more than half the seats are empty providing us each with our own row to stretch out and sleep comfortably.


I read a little bit of USA Today and as soon as the plane lifts off the ground I’m off to dreamland...

DREAM: In a restaurant. Glass windows protect us from the outside where a sect of foreigners understood to be Scottish or Irish corral around picnic tables and fire pits. I sense hostility. All of a sudden they start cracking the windows with pipes and sticks. It’s a riot. It’s a gang fight. I run around with a plastic rod pretending to be a part of the gang, speaking with somewhat of an accent. I whack a little kid’s hand to prove I’m on their side. I felt bad about it but I had to survive, and whacking a kid’s hand was less malicious than knocking someone unconscious. I retreat to the other block where London police officers assure us they will return immediately upon summons if the thugs show up again. We’re safe now I guess.


Waking up from a deep sleep...eyes still heavy...but rested up enough. I’ll try to stay awake for the rest of the day so my body can get back to it’s normal Virginia Beach sleep cycle. Still about four more hours to go till we land in Boston. It’s hard to believe I’m almost back in the states. Even though only eleven days have passed it feels like months have gone by during my time in Europe. I wish they had. It’s like a detox being on tour, a break from the crutches of home life. Seeing the world changes you. Then you return with a clean slate. You’re given an opportunity to allow your new perspective to shape the dreaded comeback of local monotony. Raise the standards. Raise your eyebrows and get back to work. You have unfinished projects to complete.

The LCD screen in front of me states the Estimated Time of Arrival to be 1:11 p.m.


We’re served a Cheese Calzone.


Reading...listening to music...drinking Coffee and hardcore snacking on these delicious Stroopwafels given to us by a fan from the Netherlands.

We land in Boston. And our captain announces the correct arrival time of 1:11.

Me: “That was the most comfortable flight.”


Trekking across from terminal to terminal to reach our gate. I spot a cluster of four American electric outlets.

Me: “Hey look at that! It feels good to see those again.”

Wendy’s lunch: Spicy Chicken Sandwich with French Fries and a Dr Pepper.


Arriving in Norfolk. Greeted with dreary rainy weather. Welcome home. At the house. Elisa and D’Andrea are excited to see me. Unpacking. Unwinding. It’s so strange to be back here.

I run up to the thrift store, where Anthony would be working but he’s gone now. Darren is in his place. I sit down in the back room where all the carts of donations line up and get the skinny on what’s been happening while I was gone.

Stopping by Trader Joes for groceries. Back to the Hilltop routine.


Dinner: Black Bean Soup. Broccoli. Garlic Curry Naan Bread.

Watching True Grit (2010).

I talked with Margot earlier on the phone. It was nice to hear her voice. She’s spending the first night at her new condo in Ocean Trace. She wanted me to sleep next to her. I declined to visit tonight because I wanted to unwind by myself and sleep alone. But I reconsidered her absence in my life for the past couple weeks and changed my mind. I head over there, which is much closer than Bay Colony where she used to live with her grandmother. Things just fit right back into place, in more ways than one. The sexual deprivation and built up desires were more overwhelming than I thought. Lying next to her. Feeling her soft warm legs. The comfort of her body. I want to kiss and make love right away. It’s a fiery moment. I couldn’t last long but she understood.

She sits there straddled on top of me...paused.

Still grappling with the surge of ecstasy I just experienced, “Man, it’s been a while.”

She smiles and says, “Welcome home.”

I have a troubling feeling that I might become addicted to her again.

Going to sleep earlier than usual around 1 a.m.

[i] Away From Here. James Roper.

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