Father Guy
Father Guy
On a run from Tucson to Portland with 300 kilos 660 pounds of Marijuana loaded into a Dodge Mini-Van. My running partner Becky is riding shotgun acting as Navigator, Lookout and Pessimist. She checks the Map every ten minutes informing me about upcoming Cities or Alternative Routes that I never consider. I've driven this Run five maybe six times in the past with successful results. My route is investigated and charted days before I ever turn the key in the vehicle's ignition.
"I think that's a Cop ahead of us. There might be a Cop car behind us. That looks like a Cop parked on the shoulder up ahead." She repeats continuously during the trek. I've given up on requesting she stop with the minute by minute commentary, it only pisses her off and makes for an uncomfortable journey. Her assessment of Law Enforcement being in close proximity has only been correct on two occasions out of fifty possible sightings. So I have developed a mental cut off switch silencing her prattle.
"Looks like we're getting low on gas and I need to pee soon." Becky announces
"Okay Beck pick an exit coming up."
"Santi, Santi listen to this. Coming up in about fifteen miles there's a Town called Weed. Really Weed, California. How funny. Let's stop there please. I'll watch for it on the Highway signs tell ya when we get close."
"Sounds great Beck, let me know."
As I mentioned I have traveled this route a few times before and was aware of the town. Thought best to stay quiet and let Becky be the one who discovered the town.
I'm wearing a Priest outfit with the White Collar that was a Halloween Costume from last year. However it is totally authentic, I acquired the outfit from the Catholic Church in Nogales when helping clean out the basement to accommodate Bingo.
Weed is an actual Town not a fictional place. It exists near Interstate 5 North of Sacramento with a sensational view of Mount Shasta.
We enter Weed locating a Gas Station with the word Weed painted in large letters on the side.
I pull up to the gas pumps and Becky exits hurrying toward the bathrooms.
I enter inside to pay for the gas and pickup a few items for the road. The attendent with long hair, tie dyed shirt, and sunglasses looking as though he had escaped from a Rainbow Gathering greets me.
"So like welcome man. Everything cool?"
"Certainly my good man."
He stops me with another question.
"So you like a Priest or something?"
"Yes like a Priest or something." I respond
"That's cool. That's cool. Do ya need help finding anything?" He inquires.
Becky pokes her head in the door.
" Hey Father grab me a Coke and some Nacho Chips please." She commands.
"So that's it then? Two cokes, , peanuts and fifteen dollars gas."
"Ya know what Rock Star give me a pack of Marlboro lights will you please?"
"So that woman with you your wife?"
"No my good man, she's the Administrator for the Church. Priests aren't allowed to take a wife, it would contradict my vows."
"But its okay to smoke? Isn't that like against the Bible law man?" He asks
"Can't say I follow all the rules, I am after all only human. Your body is your temple and sometimes, well?. .." I preach.
Damn I make a great priest if I must so say. Quite possibly I missed my true calling.
"So father guy, no souvenirs of our famous town?" Hippie Harvey asks
"No souvenirs. But tell me why is your town famous?"
I'm feeling playful and welcome the exchange of banter. Becky at times wears me out going on with complaints including circumstances which are beyond anyones control.
"The town is famous because of it's name...Weed. Do ya get it? Weed."
"Oh yes I do. Like Dandelion? Seems to me they could've named the town Dandelion which is a much more appealing name." I suggest
"No no no like Weeeeedddd. Ya get it? Weeeeedddd like Marijuana is called weed." He proudly proclaims
"Are you trying to tell me you sell Marijuana here? That's illegal young man. If you get caught quite possibly you could go to prison. Not a wise decision. Especially selling from this Gas Station."
"That's not what I mean!" His voice increasing an octave with each explanation. " I'm not selling pot HERE! I'm trying to tell ya the name of our town Weed is another word for Marijuana." Frustration evident in is speech.
"Like a code word someone looking to purchase your Marijuana would use? I understand now but I don't wish to buy any." I am thoroughly enjoying myself although my once composed and mellow station attendant is coming undone. He slaps the counter with the palms of his hands demanding my attention. Then runs his fingers through his hair, then exhales creating a sound of disgust
"I'm not selling Marijuana do you get it father guy? I was explaining our town is famous for the name. Don't start telling people I'm selling Pot here!"
"Of course not. I'm a priest not a Policeman it's not my place to judge you and I won't inform the authorities of your activities. I give you my word."
He hands me my change and quickly pushes the bag at me in an act of contempt.
"There are Drug Treatment Centers for drug abusers and addicts. You might want to look into that as an option. I sincerely hope you consider my suggestion. I will pray for you." I say exiting the station.
"Oh and I more thing, I'm not interested in souvenirs promoting illegal drug abuse. May God be with you my son."
"Father guy you got it all wrong! I'm a user not an abuser!" He hollers.
I make to the Mini Van and head to the rear to pump the gas while Becky sits on her ass.
"What the hell were you doing in there? Come on move it. Let's get on the road." I finish pumping the gas and hop the Mini Van.
"What was going on in there? Listening to that guys life story? And you forgot my Damn chips! You know I don't like peanuts. You're a piece of work." Becky lectures
Back to being the sounding board for Becky's bitching, her words testing my patience. I'm due to go into overload and explode in rage, but for now I'm "Father Guy" heading out in the late afternoon from;" Ya know man like... Weeeeedddd California."
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