The Florida Gay Scene

Florida was great. We stayed with Bill and Rob in Tallahassee, parking our bus on their lawn, with their bust next to it for Paul to sleep in. Two instant guest rooms. I visited Stephanie. It was the first time I took the bus out without Bryna, my trusty navigator. Sure enough I ended up lost with my keys locked inside the buss. Our friend Muffin bailed came and bailed me out. He was able to find me after I described the trees I was parked next to and then for his second magic trick he had a key ring full of VW keys. The third one we tried fit my bus.

"Wow, Muffin, thanks. Can I buy you dinner or something?"

"If I decide you owe me anything, I got keys to your bus."

Bryna and Rob hit it off especially well. He owned a landscaping business and he took her to work with him a couple of days. "I usually have guys help me," he explained "and I tell them pick up any stick that's bigger than their stick. I guess I'll have to tell you to pick up any stick bigger than Keith's."

Seeing a set up the loyal and quick on her feet Bryna refused to pick up any sticks at all. Rob had a good laugh and then chose a stick for her to use as a guide.

Paul was amazed to be there. "Oh my god. My friends in Germany will never believe that I ended up in the middle of the Florida gay scene!" he said as we sat on the front porch smoking cigarettes and drinking cold cans of Coca Cola.

Florida's a big state. I was pretty we hadn't found THE Florida gay scene, but I couldn't take that away from him.

Rob and his one employee, Doug, took the three of us camping at a national forest and we took and amazing canoe trip. Paul and I's canoe was floating past a thirteen foot Aligator when another canoe, this one full of kids, pulled up beside us.

"Argh, we're pirates." they shouted.

"Well alright." I replied. It wasn't the reply that was gonna keep them from knocking our canoe around with their paddles until we were dumped in the water. I'm not sure such a reply existed, but there was little time to ponder as we were in water with a giant aligator sitting a few yards away. Paul went nuts and started throwing our shoes in the water while yelling what must've been German obscenities.

"Paul, what the fuck are you doing!" I yelled, shaking him. He finally calmed down. We grabbed the shoes, and somehow got back in the boat. At the end of the line a van was waiting to take us all back to where we started. Paul chased the kids literally up a tree. I explained to their father why the crazy German was so upset and he assured us the kids would be punished.

"Shit to punish, I want to feed the little monsters to the aligator." Paul was yelling as we pulled him away. The father decided he and his boys would wait and take the next van. Wise idea.

The camping was wonderful and Bryna and I were once again getting along great. We snuck in a bit of lovin' where we could, when we had the bus to ourselves, but we were self concious about having friends always in such close proximity. After dropping Paul off at a bus station where he would start making his way to Jamaica.

For a few hours we enjoyed having the bus to ourselves again. We had breakfast at a roadside diner with a large family seated at the table next to us. They seemed so nice and wholesome and the smiled and said hello as we took a seat. I noticed their matching t-shirts and figured they'd had a family reunion or church function that morning. I squinted and could just make out the writing; "The fraternal order of the White Nights of The Klu Klux Klan." I instantly felt flush with butterflies in my stomach, the way I fell before a fight. I just wasn't used to racism being flaunted so openly. The racists I'd known, and there'd been plenty, kept it hidden away. I had now idea what the right thing to do would be in such a situation. Of course it was to do nothing. What could you do?

We finished our breakfast and headed toward Nashville.

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