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08/11/2003 Entry: "first day at poetry Slam nationals"
because I was not able to web log from Chicago at the Nationals. I am going to make seperate entries for each day. This will serve as Tuesday Aug 5.
I am going to Nationals today. The E-train wasn't running cross town ( I later found out why: It was because the A-train, that Gina and Jamie were on, caught on fire down town so they stopped everything on the blue lines.) I had to carry three heavy bags plus the national Slam trophy across three avenues and down six streets. I wanted to take a cab but no one would stop for me. It may have been because the National Slam trophy is a real sword in a stack of books, and I had it over my shoulder with my hair obscuring the books. So I looked like a guy with a broad sword on Sixth avenuehailing a cab. Anyway, everybody was a bit late getting to the car rental for some of the afore mentioned reasons (fire). It was nearing 8PM. Blah, blah, blah... skip ahead to car trip six of us in the minivan and four in an suv as part of a caravan. We stop at a gas station in rural pennsylvania, at midnight. Everyone jumps out of the van to stretch and buy supplies. I go over to the tan suv that pulled up next to us (the tan suv that Fish was driving) and throw up my hands at the rear passenger window to scare the people in the back. Except that it was the wrong SUV. I scared some poor white girl who was sitting alone in the suv as an unknown and very terrorist looking guy throws his hands on her window and yells boo at midnight in rural pennsylvania. What's worse is that because the windows were tinted. I couldn't really tell that it wasn't someone I knew. I stood there and laughed until I realized this person silently screaming in the car wasn't Fish, or Rich or Lenny or Maria. I felt soooooooooo bad. I scared that poor woman half to death. Everyone one else thought it was funny especially when she told her friends inside what happened and Ray was standing next to them laughing histerically because he already heard it from me. I could have been killed. But i apologisedand stayed out of the convenience store until after she left. After that we spent another fifteen minutes tearing the car apart looking for Seve's sandwich, which eventually turned up on top of a newspaper stand, and Cassie was trying the door of a minivan as though it were ours as the man inside looked at her strangely. It was quite and eventful trip.
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