Promotion, Promotion, Promotion!!!


Updated June 30, 2007, 19:30 GMT-6. Location: Houston, TX. Trip ended.


Starting mileage: 15350
Time traveling: 99 days, 10 hours (includes 7 days Scrabble)
Days since last speeding ticket (4/6/06): 448
Miles driven: 35240 + 425 (Hawaii) + 50 (Alaska) - 1190
New stores visited: 715. Final percentage: 97% (couldn't hit that 99%!!!)visited not visited
Stores opened in North America during trip: 330!!!
Stores skipped stratragically: 14 (+ maybe 1 new Ottawa)
Stores missed due to Cabal's evil machinations: 3
Stores missed b/c they didn't answer the @#$%^& phone so I didn't know they were open!!!: 1
Stores missed due to poor scheduling: 2
Stores rephotographed: 508
Recognition ratio: 262/664 (51 stealth)
Visual recognition: 20
Visual recognition of DVD: 1
Unmistakably (even by my paranoid self) negative reactions: 8
Coffee consumed: (X - 45) * 4 + 104 = 2784 oz + 40 oz iced coffee + 64 oz French press + 6 shot + 8 oz misto + 13 DoubleShot + 2 Top Pot au laits + 4 oz Blenz + 8 oz Tim Hortons
Stores where I was refused a sample: 2
Spent on coffee: $105.51
Spent on gas: $3,348.75 - $1.50
Spent on tolls/parking: $165.82
Parking tickets: 3 ($39 + $15 + $65 (currently disputing))
Spent on airfare: $398.16 + $215.14 change fee + $219.70 + $105 change fee + $34.90 + $460.80 + $80.43 (parking)
Spent on ferry: $83.48
Spent on rental cars: $167.08
Other expenses: $105.76 (tires) + $4.13 (sheet, toothpaste) + $71.62 (tire) + $239.78 (oil changes)
DVDs sold (at $20, $14 profit - $9): 57
Medication: 10 fake cold pills, 16 real Nyquill, 27 fake Benadryl, 32 fake Excedrin (2 to blunt effect of hunger, 2 to get thru movie), 3 x 10 mg Loratadine, 9 x 30 mg pseudoephedrine hydrochloride, 4 x 10 mg phenylephrine hydrochloride



June 30

Around 7:30, picked up some grub, then back over to the Starbucks for a photo. The really cute barista with the braces who had closed the previous night was there again in the morning, to my surprise. She kind of reminded me of that actress from Ugly Betty, with the braces. I could just tell that once she had her braces removed and had a makeover she would be very glamorous.

Meanwhile, the Vector continue to fuck my brain with its loud shrill. The sound seemed to be at just the right frequency and volume to trigger something primal in my brain and produce feelings of extreme violence. I could visualize myself smashing the designer of the device over and over with a baseball bat, shoving the bat up his ass, then smashing him some more. I was convinced that even the most non-violent of persons, even Ghandi, could be turned violent with prolonged exposure to an annoying noise. I was reminded of the "Noel" episode of The West Wing in which Joshua's post-shooting PTSD was triggered by loud sounds like Christmas carolers and a violin playing.

Approaching Victoria, an honest-to-goodness flock of wild turkeys (I assume they were wild). Might have been the first time I'd ever seen turkeys! I even heard them gobble! They actually do gobble! That's, like, the coolest thing I've ever heard! Later, when I recounted the story to Michael, I was surprised by the absence of enthusiasm in his voice. He was not impressed, and exhibited no love whatsoever for the magnificence of the creature that is the wild turkey. Some people just don't understand.









My trip Houston-ward was complicated by the start of rain. The rain meant I had to perform a manic dance of juggling raising the windows up and down, switching the air between blowing into the car and defrosting, switching the fucking Vector on and off, and stopping/starting the podcast I was listening to every time a Starbucks answered since I was in the process of doing my due diligence, calling stores to find out which had opened.

There was a Best Buy behind the second Rosenberg store, and I took the opportunity to replace the fucking Vector with different model. Worked for about 5 minutes before shutting off. I switched back to original but asked for a list of other brands to try. Fry's was not too far away, so I didn't even open the new Vector, and and instead I went to Fry's bought a brand called Wagan. 150 Watt, and cheaper, only $27.99. About 10 minutes later, it also overloaded, but at least with a softer beep. But I discovered that, unlike the Vector, the Wagan would automatically switch between on and off without my having to turn it on and off. Not perfect, but way better than that fucking worthless Vector piece of shit.

The odd lack of support in my home town of Houston continued at the first new store I visited, where the jerk of a supervisor did not even let me finish my introduction. I was, like "For 10 years I've been..." and he cut me off and replied something like "I know who you are. Sorry, bro, we don't do that." Can't remember exactly what he said, so off-guard was I caught. The supervisor in Lee's Summit who didn't know who I was was one thing--I had to expected that some would react with suspicion. But this guy--jeez, I hadn't even asked for anything yet. A short while later I had to remind myself that his reaction might have had to do with my politics and philosophy. Anyway, just to be clear, dude wasn't a jerk because he didn't offer me a sample coffee--he was a jerk because he brusquely asked what I needed and then didn't let me finish my sentence. Baaaad customer service.

Farther up the road, at the Shipley Donuts, the cashier kept giving me an odd look, as if he suspected me of something. Can't imagine the reason for it, unless he was a racist and reacting to my Blackness. Guy appeared Latino, too. Ain't it just a bitch, that the Latinos are often complaining about racism in immigration policy while at the same time perpetrating acts of racism themselves? Even if this guy wasn't specifically reacting to my race, you know it goes on. Anyway, when he finally finished helping the middle-aged man with the rambunctious kid, he said "can I help you" without even looking at me. Then he gave me the wrong donut.

I approached the next Starbucks with trepidation. The previous supervisor's reaction, combined with past experiences in Houston, had me wondering if some higher-up in the area had sent out an e-mail warning of my arrival and intruction baristas to deal with me Michael Moore style. An APB out on Chewbacca, perhaps?

Meanwhile, I was noticing something different in the designs of all the new Houston stores, plus the two Rosenberg stores. The men's and women's doors were separated from the main lobby by an outer door. I wondered if this was mandated by the county--counties, actually, since the Rosenberg stores are in Fort Bend and the Houston one's in Harris.

Figured I'd have to stealth the mall, and when the non-smiling barista who appeared to be the supervisor also appeared to look like he could have been the brother of that other one, I figured stealth was my best option.

Observed the baristas keenly at the next store trying to figure out which one was the supervisor without having to ask the one at the counter. The problem with asking is that the barista invariably motions or looks or shouts or gives some other indication to the supervisor. If she then turns out to look mean, and I decide not to introduce my project, then I have to leave her with a puzzled look, wondering why I was asking. Well, in this case it was even trickier, because I thought the cashier was pointing to the heavyset young lady that I had been observing for signs of a pleasant attitude. When I finally saw a decent smile, I decided I could talk to this one, but she wasn't actually the supervisor. Turns out the cashier had been pointing instead to the short hairy man with the pocked face. I hadn't kept statistics, but I just had the feeling that the shorter men tended to react more poorly to me than taller men. I can only assume it's because short men are continuously pissed off at being short and jealous of taller men.

Finally rushed to my last store of the trip to meet Michael. The barista who claimed to be the manager reacted with a puzzled look, as is common of baristas who seem to be immigrants, but it was only mild puzzlement, and he obliged with the sample.

Finally made it to the house for some good home cooking, and shortly thereafter crashed and slept nearly 12 hours. It was beeeeautiful.


June 29

8:15, overcast, blah for my reshoot of Broadway & Joliet.

When I jumped to the front of the the car, I noticed in the rearview mirror an elderly couple walking in my direction, presumably on their morning constitutional. The old man appeared to spot me, and he indicated to his wife to move across the street.

I went inside the Starbucks to refill my water, and while there I asked about a breakfast recommendation. A young woman with jet black hair, fair skin, slightly heavy (possibly wearing sunglasses, and it's irritating that I can't remember), recommended a place called Twin Sisters. After passing it up the first time on New Braunfels, I doubled-back and spotted it towards the back of a parking lot. I walked in, went up to the counter, and began looking at the menu. A young waitress with heavily tatooed arms, fair skin, glasses, and a reddish ponytail asked if I had been helped. I replied that I was looking at the menu. Then she looked at me and asked "Are you going to order?" in a manner that made me feel as if she thought I was some homeless person just come in off the street to hang out. I had washed my faced, my hair was okay, not too much stubble, so I'm not sure why she reacted like that. Regardless, I didn't want to give her my business, so I made a mental note of the phone # of the second location and went out to the car. The other Twin Sisters is downtown, and after looking at my map and deciding I wanted to reshoot a couple of other Starbucks, I decided I didn't want to go downtown. So I went back in the restaurant and took a seat, placed my to-go order from a table so I wouldn't have to deal with the redhead. While I waited for my order, I saw the redhead sniffling. Maybe her reaction was due to illness? Later still, she came by my table and asked if I had been helped--she didn't look as mean then as she had at counter. Perhaps I had misread her reaction. Well, better safe than snubbed. Cost me an extra buck though, a tip for the floor waiter, even though I don't like to tip for to-go orders. Preparing a to-go meal is not really "service".





From Twin Sisters I went up to the Nacogdoches & New Braunfels store. As soon as I saw the mess of cars in the parking lot, I figured I was not going to get a better photo, but I still pulled into a space to buy some juice and eat my breakfast. The parking situation was so crazy that, when I saw the driver of the white SUV at the end about to leave, I decided that I needed to get my car into the parking lot across the street before she pulled out; otherwise somebody was sure to take the spot. A stream of traffic was a-coming--the wait for them was sure to be several minutes (for the light to change), so I gunned the engined and blazed across the road. The blue pickup truck closest to me honked, though there was never any danger of his hitting me--I'm too good for that. The real danger was the French toast, which ended up spilling onto my jeans and then onto the floor. Grrr...





As I neared Laredo, the urge to repeatedly yell "JIHAD!" I really wanted to walk into the Starbucks pumping my fist and yelling "JIHAD", but I suspected that would minimize my chances of selling a DVD.

Mariachi Express, bargain-basement flautas.

Outlets, security, calls others and they confer while I leave.

TV criticc on TOTN, more Sopranos talk!!! When will it end???

Hwy 83 & Boca Chica, disguyise


June 28

7:33, blah rain.

Flooding, possible Marble Falls closure, boil water

Madison e-mail, Cheney shot

Yay, after selling a DVD to Ilse after my massage appointment, I figured out where the missing DVD went! To a massage therapist back in Baltimore!

Okay, I reaaaaally need to stop rear-ending people at traffic lights. Or maybe people need to stop stopping in front of me when then should be moving!!! Either way, cost me $200. But really, I'm lucky, that the guy didn't want to file an insurance claim or even take the car to a shop--that would have been painful.

Holy shit, that vulture really should have gotten out of my way! At least I didn't have to pay it $200. Now the question is--do vultures eat their splattered bfrethern.

Ach--game night in Bulverde, a pain in the ass since it's out of the way, and people weren't going to be leaving for a while. Something curious--game night was open to all, but their were no boys to be seen.

Unusual brew, French roast at Walzem.

Blessedly cool.

Feel like PTSD. Kill Vector. Kill Dell.


June 27

7:08, scary dreams including car stolen. Scrabble sadness fading, but replaced by a touch sad-lonely because of dream about Kelly and Michelle.

So close to finishing my trip I could almost taste it.

Big Red





Broken Bow, OK, where the first Klingon landed!

Yay, 4:05 PM, back in Texas!

I went out of my way for this???







Boo!!! Sunny all day from Little Rock to Texas, and then rain, big rain, as I hit D/FW, ruining some reshoots and photos.

Aaah, DoubleDaves peproni rolls, soooo good.

Constant outbursts of screaming at the Vector fuck.


June 26

Wow!!! 25 cents for 2 1/2 hours of parking on a side street near the University store!!!

What the...??? In the 20-30 minutes it took me to park and visit the University store, three different sets of ambulance/fire engine sirens--what's going on in Birmingham???

On the way to reshoot Homewood, Salem's Cafe, where the cook/owner/manager claimed the biscuits were excellent. Umm... no.

Down in Homewood, another ambulance. What is wrong with these people?

Feeling off. About 50 miles from Huntsville the brown/grey sedan ahead of me braked quickly. I should have hit my brakes before I even saw the trooper, but I reacted 1/4 to 1/2 second slower than I should have. No movement from the trooper, but just the fact that I reacted slowly was disturbing.

It was a 47-mile detour to Huntsville (Madison, actually) from a direct route to Jackson, TN, and I had debated whether it was worth it for that one new store, given that I had just visited Huntsville three months earlier and, and that the market appeared to be growing. I finally decided it was worth it, and I came to regret that decision when I finally arrived. The supervisor happened to be an frizzy-haired little bitch with a dour face pocked with slight acne. She looked at me like I was nuts when I asked for a sample, and, then, in an egregious act of disrespect, quietly asked another barista to keep an eye on the safe while she poured a sample. It was questionable whether the act was racist or not, but it demonstrated absurd distrust of a customer wearing a "Starbucking" t-shirt. Of course s he only filled the sample cup half-way, and I wanted nothing more to do with the little bitch, so I just set two dollars on the counter and asked for a short. She asked if I wanted room, and I said just to fill it halfway. She then fumbled around looking for a lid, finally saying she didn't have any short lids, and I said she could just pour most of that coffee out. As she did so, she was shaking her head in a contemptuous manner--yet more horrible customer service. "Oh, you want less coffee--you must be a true jerk," I imagined she was thinking. I didn't even bother to hand her a mini-flyer, figuring she would just throw it out. Once more it appeared that Starbucks had built one store too many, in the Huntsville market this time, and hired somebody who shouldn't ever be in customer service.

On a lighter note, while I was not able to satisfy my mighty Squirt craving directly, the gas station had something called Sun Drop that takes a bit like Squirt.

On Alt-72 west, another craaaaaazy trucker. Almost never run red lights, but I had to do so to escape that fucker for a while. Finally, when I spotted Tony's Country Cooking, I decided to take a break and ditch that fool. Good decision. Huge plate. She offered me two pork chops, but I only took one, but a heaping helping of pinto beans, green beans, cream potatoes. Two cornbreads. And raspberry cobbler, too. What's cobbler, anyway?





Vector fuck continued 2 driv me crzy

Ugh... had to cross back into Mississippi for a short stretch.

Oops! Turned out "Quality Bodyworks" about 15 miles south of Jackson is not a massage parlor, but instead an auto body shop. Boy, did they look at me funny when I got naked and sprawled on the hood of that Corvette.

Body coated in a persistent film of grimy sweat.

Nuts! Back in Mississippi. But maybe since Oliver Branch is a suburb of Memphis it won't be like really being in Mississippi. I'll just try to pretend I'm in Tennessee, and that that dumbass back out towards Covington wasn't really rocking a big-ass Dixie flag on his pickup.


June 25

Finally remembered to pop into an auto parts store, AutoZone, for an air filter, but they don't carry it. Same a O'Reillys. What's up?

Odd experience in Madison. The manager was busy training another barista on how to use the safe. Behind her was a goateed man keeping an eye on things. While I waited for the manager, I went over to the bar and asked for more ice water. The man kept glancing over at me. The whole time I was there, his razor-sharp gaze hardly left me, and it was making me extremely uncomfortable. When the manager did get freed up and and called me over, I made a snap decision to just ask for a short coffee. She asked if they could help me with anything, and I quietly replied "no." The barista who had served me the water asked if I was going to explain my shirt and DVD, and I said "No, I'll just leave." I left as quickly as I could grab my things and some sugar.

Hoping to avoidthe type of belligent confrontation that some Starbucks baristas have instigated in the past, I moved my car all the way across the highway. That was awkward because the parking lot of the other shopping center was inset a few hundred feet and down a hill. To save time, I parked on the shoulder instead and hoped no cop would pass by. Perhaps the manager and Razor Gaze were keeping an eye on me the whole time, because it was at least 3 minutes before I was able to park and start photographing from across the highway, many hundreds of feet, maybe even a quarter mile, away, and as soon as I was in view of the store, the manager came outside and started making a phone call. I got as close as I could without coming onto the property, which is regrettable, because the building was really pretty, and I was reduced to taking some really bad photographs.

As I drove away and approached the interstate, I first saw an unmarked patrol car heading in the direction of the store, and then a Madison Police car. Could have been a coincidence, but I wasn't taking any chances. I've had too many run ins with Southern cops and know that they care more about exerting authority than respecting the law. Almost makes me what to say that Starbucks shouldn't do business in the Deep South, at least rural areas like Jackson, just like they shouldn't do business in China.

By the time I got back to the mall, it was 10:00 AM, and it occurred to me that, with just a few Starbucks in the Jackson market, the manager could have easily called the other two to warn them about me. I decided to take preemptive action and disguise myself. I put on my plaid shirt over my Starbucks shirt and buttoned it up, and I donned a makeshift do-rag. As soon as I got my coffee and left the store, I quickly removed the cloth and long-sleeved shirt in the hopes of throwing the baristas/security off my scent.





45-minute job interview, getting superhot, flies infested car while I was talking.

You know, I kind of like that Celine Dion song.

Dilemma in Montgomery when I heard on the radio that The Wind that Shakes the Barley was to play in Tuscaloosa that night. I had missed the movie in Philly and NYC, and I was very surprised to find it in Alabama of all places. If I managed to leave by 5:30, I could probably drive the 111 miles in two hours. I tried to get the Bama theater on the phone, but no answer. But my decision was made for me because of traffic getting to the Atlanta Highway store. By the time I got out of there it was getting close to 6:00, and I knew I wasn't going to make it, so I rushed up towards Birmingham in the hopes of visiting all 5 stores before nightfall. But by 8:30 it was already too dark, and I stopped in Homewood and decided to stay the night.

Charlies's, lame. County or someone threatening to close down. Sheriff's deputies did an inspection--dancer says it happens regularly. No fun to be had there.


June 24

Left the Scrabble tournament disgusted and disappointed and headed out to Baton Rouge. Stopped for some more reshoots--many of my photos from those early trips were god-awful. At Veterans a grey pickup was parked right in the middle of the parking lot, almost blocking traffic. After waiting a good long time, I went into the store and saw that nobody was waiting for a drink. So I asked the driver of the truck, and older man, if he was waiting for someone. He said he was waiting for his daughter, but he took the hint and backed the car out onto the street, allowing me my photo. As I prepared to leave, a baristas, young, dark-skinned, maybe my height, probably 180 or better, baseball cap, glasses, holding a beverage, walked towards my car and asked, in a sarcastic manner, if I had gotten the photos I needed. As I pulled away, he kept looking at me in a disapproving manner. Another example of how Starbucks misinstructs their employees to disregard the First Amendment. If you know who this barista is, please ask him for me why he hates America?





bermuda triangle, comics, whole foods, evil cashiers

crazy suv lady

no spoon

everything irritated me

Tastee, cast of characters, freaks n geeks, pretty girl busty, but deep street voice, james franco type, morbidle obese striped blue, mentally deficient dark-skin going on codger, heavy man white looked rearted but worked there not, older ladies sitting at tables, cahsier curley b;londe vbrother heathers ftype

A Pontiac Solstice--when did that come out??? Not bad looking, but unfortunately it's American.

Hot as fuck in B Rouge, hotter than NO.





Ahhuas no speak spanish a la carte




June 23

6:45, rush to rephotograph a mess of stores, visit on new one, and then rush to Scrabble.


June 22

5:00, I awoke and lay there, and suddenly I heard the buzzing, the buzzing, THE BUZZING!!! How, how, how had it managed to get in my car? Flew in while I drove from the Starbucks to the neighborhood street, perhaps? And how many times had it feasted upon my blood, I wondered.

Anyway, I moved from the neighborhood and went back to the Starbucks hoping to download, but, to my surprise, the baristas had not yet entered the store, and there was a security guard out front, presumably to guard the equipment for the construction going on in the parking lot. I moved to the other side of the store, where the signal was weaker.

Received a message from a barista who I had snap-judged as "mean". I figured that would happen sooner or later, and I explained it was a necessary consequence of the vicious looks I'd been getting, that I had to decide just by glancing at the supervisor whether she would be mean to me or not.

Timed my morning wrong, dawdled too much online, and didn't reach Gulf View Square til almost 10:00. Detouring to Montgomery and Birmigham was out of the question--just heading straight to New Orleans by Saturday morning was going to be tough if I lost any more time.

No Brown Cow at Sweetbay on Little in Tampa. Learned that the "ASK ME ABOUT" portion of their name tags could specify anything, not just a person.

Reasonably priced spaghetti.

dudes in whiote pickup thout I was drning a beer--they were!

Mighty thirst. Starting to like the "sparkling clementine" Izzie. Not in love with it, but it will do in a pinch. Furthermore, the mixture of Odwalla strawberry lemonade diluted with water plus some Izzie for spice... hmmm, yummy. Still hot as fuck out therfe though.

eyes burning.

Dude, second reference t Nirvana's Scentless Apprentice in a mionth--first on the Lost season finale, and now

In Mary Esther I received the greatest compliment ever bestowed upon my project, that it was "pimp".

called Springhill pleaded, Old Shell downloading, 1:00 AM leave no sodomy

I finally remembered to check the start time for the tournament, which I had been assuming was 9:00 AM. 11:00 AM, actually. D'oh! I could have hit Gulf Shores.




June 21

6:59, ladies talking, feel like I should move.

AAAAAAH!!! SKEETER BITES, SKEETER BITES!!! ITCHY ITCHY ITCHY. Itchy palm, too, but no apparent bite--why?

7:10, #47

Ric's New York Style Bakery & Deli, yum.





8:35, #48, pushy, evil bitchy look, felt compelled to leave as quickly as possible. I must be the most hated customer in Florida. It was the cow comment--I know it!

9:18, #49, cute + not mean = yay

10:10, #50, the rule of thumb continues, young males under 35 tend to react the best to my project, unless homosexual in which case the % drops.

10:50, #51, supervisor dismissive, but there was a customer, a bit heavy but pleasingly busty, wearing a light green dress (not at all cruel) of a felt-like material that, as she walked, seemed to caress her buttocks in such a way as to highlight their curvature. Mesmerizing.

12:10, #52

Finally found a spa with a shower and therpaist available right away. Shower was actually $2.50 extra, but since the 1/2 hour was only $30. it was worth it. Cool name, too, Fountain of Youth. Cool nature-themeed decor too, though I did, for a second, think that the ceramic wolf on the floor was real!

Having showered, I figured it was time to change briefs. Probably a good thing, since the odor of the old pair was beyond noxious--it was making me gag. I should be able to sell them on eBay, if Amy doesn't want them.

Sweetbay, formerly Cash n Carry, has Brown Cow, more Frutzzo yummy.

3:10, #53

3:35, #54

Score Card, dive.

5:05, #55

AAAAAH!!! Bug attacking my eye. Get away, get away! I showered!!!

5:44, #56

Interesting. Golden declisous apple taste reminds me of the long-defunct GatorGum.

Irresistible urge to yell out, over and over, "AREYOUMYMONKEY???"

6:30, #57, so close.

Something weeird at Tyrone Square, G by Guess treating grand opening as if it were a nightclub m not a clothing sture.

La Teresita, needed meat!!! Bait & switch with my tostones. Grrr...





Checked out four clubs in quick succession, didn't go into any, none looked worthwhile or worth the cover charge.

8:12, US 19 & Curlew Rd, running out of time.

Crane? Stork?

8:40, #59, Citrus Park Mall, and it was already too late to reach Gulf View Square before 9:00. Curse you, mall stores!!! So instead I spent some "quality time" on the toilet... a good, long, healthy time, and then I headed over to what I thought was the nearest store, Shoppes of Carrollwood, to do some downloading before it closed. But it was misplotted on my map, and I ended up driving way out of my way, far north on Dale Mabry. On top of that, parking was limited because of construction, and I barely got a signal from where I had to park. I remained until midnight, when I awoke to see most cars gone, except for a couple still chatting in front of the store long after the baristas had left (store closed at 10:30). Reminded me of the days back in Plano when the Circle was still intact and we would hang 'til 3:00, 4:00 AM. Anyway, didn't feel like getting sodomized by a Tampa cop, so I moved to a nearby neighborhood street.


June 20

7:25, and Tone Loc said "let's do it!". Wait.. I'm not 100% surer it was Tone. The voice wasn't low enough. It's so rude when the voices in your head don't identify themselves clearly!

Dehydration headache.

Dammit, still can't escape news of The Sopranos finale, because of news about a campaign video spoofing the ending. When will it end???

9:12, Coral Square, #35, not open when I arrived despite having been told 8:00, and the reason is that the barista I spoke to was actually at the Florida Mall in Orlando. The phone number on the site was wrong. The supervisor at Coral said it had since been fixed, but I do not have a process in place for checking to see if the phone numbers posted on the Starbucks web site have changed.

Face dripping with sweat!

Strathmore Bagel & Deli promises the best breakfast in west Broward.





Butterflies in my stomach.

Ugh--I might just have to declare Florida the state with the meanest baristas. #36 manager (10:08 AM) spoke to me in a sharp, shrill voice, and her gaze was so piercing I did not dare reveal who I was.

10:50, headache getting worse.

Wow, I totally forgot about Veronica Mars!!! I only saw two episodes when it returned. I guess they really must have sucked hard for me to have forgotten about the show.

Only in Florida? Man walking up NE 4 Ave clad only in a bikini.

12:10, #39, hate hospital locations

2:20, #41, both looked a little evil, but the cute one behind the bar had seen my web site and saved me from the evil manager.

2:50, #42, bad vibe from the way the supervisor looked at me. An off-duty barista actually asked what I was promoting, but I had such a bad vibe from the place I told her it wasn't important. Just wanted to get out of there.

#43, rude, rude, rude! Is it the heat that's making everybody in/around Miami bitchy? Fucking hating this place--go on ahead and give it back to Cuba!

Job interview.

Detour to Versailles, and call Dell to arrange laptop repair. Kept on hold for over 30 minutes, and discover I can't manage the photo, making a turn, and keeping the container or rice on my lap at the same time. Thank heavens. Only four grains of rice fell into the coffee, so it wasn't that nasty to drink.





Arroz moro and tostones were excellent, and for only $6.05, which was good thing, because I paid dearly in terms of time for the detour. Traffic on Calle Ocho westbound was slammed. And when standing still there was no breeze--and that meant... HEEEEATTT!!!

killmenow traffic. hateeverybody

6:40, #44.

7:45, #46, finally done with Miami! For a minute.

PANTHER CROSSING??? Ther'es panthers along US-41??? If I try to pet one will it eat me?

sweatmesiter supreme, drrip drip incredble, sheet, towel, briefs, and shorts soaked


June 19

7:25, woke up feeling ungaschungashlisch.





7:30, Federal Hwy & 12th St, #21, zombie-like, spilled water. Supervisor did not want my lollipops, but she took some for the kids.

Oh, no, big big ants, please don't crawl up in my pants!

Native American war cry when I spotted the sign for Paula's Place. Wished I could have recorded it, but the digital recorder I bought last year I quickly found to be almost useless because I simply cannot duplicate the full extent of my vocal insanity after the fact. Speaking of insanity, Paula's was decorated with a clown theme, and the walls were covered with clown photos. I had to wonder how many children had started crying upon entering the place... because clowns are SCARY!!!





Heat and humidity taking toll on my drawz, putrid, possibly noxious. Discolored, too. Wish my blog had scratch n sniff capability so those traveling vicariously thru me could experience the full range of my experience. In fact, my briefs wwre so noxious that I suspected they could be used as a weapon in the war on terrorism. Duct tape my funky drawz to a terrorist's nose, and he would soon be begging to reveal all he knew. Anybody know how to get in touch with the Defense Department?





The heat and humidity was also such that I had to shave a day early because the combination of stubble and sweat on my face was annoying.

9:55, A1A & Pine Tree Dr, #22.

Oh, too bad I already had breakfast, because the Blueberry Muffin Cafe looked appealing, just based on the name.

evil grandma

12:50, Port St Lucie Blvd & Bayshore Blvd, #25

13:20, Treasure Coast, #26.

possible evil gay manager worse sheriff suck palm

Even online, job search slowing me down, updating resume, answering e-mail, the occasional phone call.

Not over yet. One more chance to have The Sopranos finale ruined, on Wait... Wait... Don't Tell Me!. Had to howl for a long time to avoid hearing what happened, though I got a clue. Hope it wasn't ruined.

4:08, #26 & #27, both in the Gardens Mall. Another evil grandma type, with a face like death--I wasn't about to tell her who I was, not with the way she looked at me and said "can we help you." I guess if my face were all shriveled up like that, I might be pissed off all the time too.

And a quick #28, PGA Blvd & Central Blvd Palm Beach, right across the freeway, just opened TODAY!!!

Damn, almost side-swiped by an unmarked cop car!!!

Aw, how cute! But what is it?





5:37, so fucking hungry, but I'm not paying these fucking West Palm Beach prices! $3.95 for a tired looking slice of pizza? $7 for black bean soup?? Why don't they just stick their hands up my ass and pull out my intestines???

6:50, Worth Ave, #29, cool store, mean-looking supervisor. This one wasn't old, but looked mean nonetheless. Why coudln't the supervisor have been the young, cute, redhead barista wearing the sleeveless shirt. Starbucks needs to have a rule--no mean (or mean-looking) supervisors!!!

On Dixie Highway north of Lake Worth I passed a massage place called Relax With Us and decided to check it out. First thing I noticed was "SHOWERS $10 EXTRA". That alone would have been enough to keep me away, but then another sign was worse--"YOU ARE HERE TO RELAX. PLEASE DO NOT ASK THE STAFF ANY QUESTIONS. IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS CALL THE OWNER". Umm... ooookay. Talk about customer-unfriendly. I wouldn't stick around there no matter what the price.

When near Miami I usually hold out for Cuban food, but I was feeling weak and on the verge of a bad headache. So when I spotted Howley's, a diner dating back to the 1950s, I figured it was good enough. It's a good thing the hot dog and fries were pretty good, because otherwise I would have been really pissed when I spotted the several Cuban restaurants just a mile south.





Goddamn!!! Is it my funky odor that's attracting all these mosquitoes/gnats?

#30, prettiest barista in days, with a most coolious name--the type of young woman I would give my left nut to date.

Wasn't until the #31 that I realized that I would probably run into

Once more, race to a couple of mall stores.

#32, #33, Boca Raton, 8:50, barely made it.

Bad planning, drive west towards the Clinton Keith store instead of east towards the older communities. Newer suburbs are harder to sleep in because most seem to be private property. No signs at the Wal-Mart on 441 prohibiting overnight parking, but it closed very early, 10:00 PM, and I didn't feel like risking being awoken in the middle of the night. Drove far enough east to find a street with an apartment complex and cars parked on the sign of the road. No sidewalk, but the street seemed wide enough for parking, so I took my chances that those two cars would stay there all night so that mine wouldn't seem conspicuous. Much heat, much sweat. Cool air outside, but lowering windows was not an option, not with the mosquitoes.


June 18

8:00 AM on the nose up and detoured over to the original Daytona Beach store for a reshoot. No hurry to get down towards Orlando since the first store to visit was in a mall, and I didn't know what time it opened. Maybe as late as 10:00 AM.

Update resumes.

At the Publix, a sign on the pastry case specified to seek help from a clerk. I told the clerk to hand me the donut in the tissue, but she said she had to put it in a bag. I found a manager and complained about the environmental impact, and it was clear from the "you're crazy" look on her face that she couldn't give a flying fuck for the environment. I could tell from the way she nodded her head that she had no intention of passing my complaint onto management.

10:15, Seminole Upstairs, #12.

insist cake

!@#$%^&!!! Waited way too long for an Audi to move to reshoot Lake Mary & Rhinehart, in part because there was a Cuban cafe, Coconuts, next door, and the black beans and rice (moros, or congri) was not ready yet. But the timing worked out--as soon as I got my food, the guy moved the car. My window lasted about 30 seconds. But the food was good, for $3.70, a lot of beans and rice and tostones!

OMG, the heeeeat, the heeeeeat, so sweaaaaaaaaaaaty!!!

12:40, SR 436 & Howell Branch Rd, #13, too slow too slow too slow. "Danger, Will Robinson!!!", danger of getting stuck in outbound rush hour traffic!

3:00, Florida Mall, #15

Grumpy uncaring looking barista at Florida Mall, so I had to stealth.

As I exited the mall I spotted a stand offering crepes. I kept walking, figuring mall crepes would suck. But a crepe craving struck, and I went back. I noticed a container full of pre-made crepes, and I asked the lady about them. She didn't speak very good English, though, and did not understand. She got the attention of a young man, and he explained the pre-made crepes were used when the stand got busy. I said I wanted mine fresh, and he told the lady. But she did not understand, and started to heat up a pre-made one. I lost my patience and left, thinking that this was a good example of why immigrants should not be allowed into the country unless they can speak excellent English. The inability to communicate creates a significant potential for conflict. In order to facilitate communication, the U.S. needs to create transition camps in which all prospective immigrants are housed until they reach a certain level of proficiency with the English language. If they cannot reach such a level, they would be sent back.

Double-drama outside the mall as I rephotographed the Sand Lake store. As a young woman pulled out and I was about to try for one shot, a white minivan/SUV pulled in. When the driver, a middle-aged man with sunglasses and many ID tags, finally pulled out, I quickly backed my car up and began shooting. Simultaneously, a pair of cute young women who were in the store exited, and one them apparently thought I was photographing them and yelled something I couldn't understand, then "...are you serious!". Vain little bitch, she wasn't that pretty.

Then, as I was about to leave, I could see all the baristas gathered at the door, along with a customer, and they appeared to be looking my way. Good going baristas, way to make a customer feel unwelcome. I'm sure that's right out of the Starbucks manual, in the chapter titled "First Amendment, What First Amendment?".

4:00 by the time I headed south to Kissimmee, too late, heavy traffic already.

In Kissimmee, Au Naturel, a nudist store with style.

At Vine and Thacker, the oddest lookin KFC building I had ever seen.

4:25, US 192 & Armstrong, #16.

Ouchie head, why?

5:05, Celebration, #17.

tummy discomfort

6:10, Eagle Ridge Mall, #18, stupid securtity guard flirting with girl at kiosk in front of store, had to wait for him to move,

Son of a bitch! I'd hoped the one trip to Sebring would it be, but along US-27 I passed a building, not yet finished, and a Starbucks sign. Coming soon. Grrrr...

7:05, Lakeshore Mall, #19, wasn't going to reach the Melbourne Square Mall by 9:00, which would mean waiting 'til 9:00 AM. Goddamn all thee new mall stores!

The assault began--I could feel a misquoto bite on my lower back.

Grimy.

9:05, Indian River Mall, whew! Just in time, only because they stayed open 10 minutes past 9:00, and because some guy was willing to open the mall door for me, which had been locked already.

Washcloth smells like spaghetti.

Vero Beach Wal-Mart also prohibited overnight parking, but looking at the sign more closely, it appeared to be a county ordinance. So maybe Wal-Mart wasn't to blame, but rather the county for conspiring with hotel and motel and campground owners to rob citizens of their money.


June 17

For the love of god, more potato chips??? And now they are moving to the front of my car--an invasion!

7:50, not sure how much I slept, if at all, after moving from the Mobil in Hardeeville to the rest area in GA.

Sleep inertia, but cool air in my face pluys DJ Muggs and GZA with heavy bass helped to wake me up.

Didn't look like I was going to find a restaurant open in Brunswick. Chpices





11:25, Yulee. And so it begins, the Florida Flow!

Father's Day call.

12:25, Fernandina Beach. The heeeat, the heaaat!

1:20, Airport Rd & I-95, had to print up a cleaner version of the flyer at OfficeMax and make more copies, plus replace all my podcasts that I had mysteriously deleted.

R.E.M. binge.

2:20, Dunn Ave & Hart

2:50, Forsyth & Main.

Decent black beans and rice and tostones from Madrid.





6:20, Kingsley & Blanding, 8th new store in Florida, running behind due to a cluster-fuck of construction, detours, and bad directions to reshoot three stores.

A thirst that neither water nor warm Tradewinds could quench, from the Publix something called Sun Shower brand nectarine-berry juice. Bloated from liquid but still mad thirsty.

Meanwhile, my waist had shrunk so that half my boxers were exposed (switched to boxers from briefs for a sexier aesthetic appeal, for the ladies), and I was feeling 10 years younger.

Still thirsty, try Frutzzo, pomegranate blueberry.

Three pairs of jeans in rotation, and the one I happened to be wearing had a button loose. "Get your hand out of your pants!"

Oh, shit, is that an eagle??? A nearby development, along US-17 in Orange Park, is called Eagle Harbor, so many it was an eagle. Cool!!!

7:40, Hwy 17 & SR 16, 10 in Florida, much farhter behind than I hoped to be.

8:40, #11, Palm Coast Pkwy & I-95.

Boo on the Palm Coast Wal-Mart for disallowing overnight parking! Had to drive down I-95 looking for a suitable exit. Took the US-1 exit because of the Love's Travel Plaza, but it was a mini one, and I feared I would be noticed. SO I drove down US-1 towards Ormond Beach but found nothing until Daytona Beach, a side street across and down from a strip club, the Pink Pony, and in front of a saloon that was oddly enough closed at such an early hour (not yet 11:00 PM even). Air was cool, so it was odd that maybe an hour into trying to sleep I started to sweat. Later, around 1:00 AM, something strange, a voice yelling loudly about how nobody better fuck with him or he would kill, how he was FBI but his cover was blown, how no "nigger" better even so much as look at him. I moved to the front of the car to kiwi, and by the time I was done he had come around the block again. At least I think it was him, because of the loud talking to himself, but he did not notice me. Other characters were out and about, however. At 3:00 AM I woke up again and decided I didn't want to be there when the sun went up in case the resident of the ramshackle house saw me when getting up for work. I continued down US-1 to see what was up, and plenty of sketchy characters shouting out to me, drug dealers presumably, some hooker-looking ladies. Not many cops, but still I chose my next spot carely, on what appeared to be a safe part of town, near the City Center building, next to a pickup. There was a more secluded spot down the street, but a pair of workers, at 4:00 AM even, happened to be trimming the palm trees (gotta keep those trees trimmed, yeah). 7:00 AM kiwi carefully in case somebody came outside and saw me.


June 16

Still chips, evil, like empregnated weevil.

7:10, tried for more, maybe drifted off again but up 15 minutes later.

In Columbia a first, and a concidence. Inside the store the barista on bar had heard of me because her car had been one of those on which I put up a flyer for the Nashville screening way back on March 26. And outside, the supervisor on a 10 reocgnized me because he had actually bought the film, at Best Buy, the first person I had met in person who had bought it.

Cafe Strudel recommended by a barista.





Stopped at the Piggly Wiggly (love that name) in Florence and spotted a new brand of OJ, Kennesaw. I had already breakfasted so did not strictly need juice, but since I'd been doing pretty good on DVD sales felt I could spurge a bit and see if this brand was any good. However, as soon as I got out to the car and took a swig I could tell it was expired. The date wasn't 'til Sunday the 17th, but I know expired juice when I taste it. All other bottles had the same date, so I just got a refund.

Oh, so beautiful, if it werren't like a mirage--a Exxon gas station on the way to Mrytle Beach, $1.09!

Serious miscalculation on my part, to have dawdled in Columbia getting breakfast, and then in Florence on the Internet and grocery store. By the time I headed to Myrtle Beach, traffic was heavy. Saturday in the summer--I should have expected this and hauled ass earlier in the mronign.

Okay, that's weird, a sign for club called "POPULAR SPORTSMAN" on the way to North Myrte Beach depicts a pair ballroom dancing.

Didn't need a shower, but I was craving a massage nonetheless. I expected to have to wait until Florida, though, because I expected pickins along the way to be slim, and thus more expensive. Myrtle Beach, a tourist destination, certainly had to be more expensive. And sure enough the one therapist I found on CL charged $45 for 30 minutes. While not exhorbitant, high when traveling on a budget. But she was very nice on the phone, and something prompted me to call her back and ask if she could see me for $35. She agreed, and it wasn't because she was a bad therapist either--she was excellent, and I wished I had a whole hour, but I didn't want to spend the full $70.

The massage got me worked up, and I'd always been curious about a strip club called Thee Doll House ever since I was a teenager working at a comic book shop and saw a pack of trading cards produced by the club. I'd known forever about the Tampa location, but I'd never been in Tampa at the right time, or with time to spare, or in the right mood. So, with no cover and $10 table dances, I decided to give the Myrtle Beach club a try. Arriving around 4:45, almost an hour after opening, I was very surprised to find the place dead. The bouncer/manager said only two dancers had arrived, still in the back getting ready. He said he would go urge them on, and I told him it wasn't necessary, but he did it anyway. I chatted with the hostess, who, if she were to dance, would surely have been one of the hottest women in the place. But according to her, she personally just couldn't bbring herslef to dance, even though she knew she could make a grand easily on a good night, if not more. When a dfancer finally did come out of the dressing room, it was as I suspected. The ones that arrive first are typically not the most atttractive ones. She looked so disapppointed that I wssn't going to get a dance from her, and I almost felt a littl ebad for her, but I wasn;t there as an act of charity. If I wanted to give money away, I'd donate to public radio. But not to starving children or most other charities, which are really ust socially counterproductive institutions that serve to help the donors and volunteers feel better at the cost of prolonging whatever condition exists, whether hunger or poverty or disaster. A bit grotesque, really, to prolong a child's pain so that you can sleep better at night.

Oh, wow!!! I'd been wondering about the term "seersucker" since reading about "seersucker suits" in All the King's Men. I'd never bothered to look it up, and now Weekend All Things Considered saved me the trouble. As I had figured , the name had nothing to do with the wearer's being a sucker.

Goddamn it! Crazy truckers are usually on the interstate, but this fool was speeding on sa fairly heavily trafficked section of US-17 thru Pawlyeys Island. As hard as it is to type in traffic, it's even harder when you've got to pay attention to an eighteen wheeler behind you and make sure he doesn't get too close!

Big-ass factory, Mittal Steel, in Georgetown, right on the primary thoroughfare. Usually factories that big are on a smaller road or set well back from the highway.

Almost forgot--back at the North Myrtle Beach store the manager reported that a friend had seen the film screened...

On I-526 towards North Charleston I had to put an extra effort into staying ahead of an annoying group in an ugly-ass brown pickup. I was probably doing 90 when I passed a car in full view of a cop coming in the other direction, but with a barrier separating opposing lanes of the freeway. I saw the cop signal to change lanes, towards the right, and I immediately suspected he might be planning to exit and then try to catch up to me. What could I do? I had to gun it to reach the next exit, which was about 2 1/2 miles away. Once I had a chance to look at my map, I realized that it was the worst possible exit, because it put me on Daniels Island, from which there was only one way in or out--no way to reach the North Charleston store via surface streets. I had to kill time buying gas, probably pricier than I could have found elsewhere.

evil grandma type

dizzy, Ridgefield 'til 12:01, Mobil


June 15

Awoke at 7:00 to see a lot of hustle and bustle. A marked contrast, there was, between waking up in Rome, GA, the previous day. Went back to sleep after setting my alarm, and it's a good thing I didn't set it for even 5 minutes past 8:00, because at 8:01/8:02 there was already a parking enforcement guy looking at me next through the window. I lowered it and said I was leaving, and he aske dwhy I hadn't put money in the meter. It was 8:02!!!

That's why people hate meter maids. You give pathetic little people with shit lives even the tiniest bit of authority, and they want to lord it over everybody else. Humans are just too flawed to allow any one human to have authority over another.

Once south of Atlanta and all its Peachtree-named roads, I thought I was free of street confusion for a bit, but I was flummoxed immediately looking for the Lovejoy store, because it's on Tara Blvd, not Tara Rd.

Oh... my... god!!! I can't believe I did that! I was about to backup a few days worth photos onto my external hard drive when it started to have a problem as I connected it to the laptop. At the same time, I was about to copy the previous day's photos to the laptop from the SD card, and with the distraction I didn't do it. And then I formatted my SD card!!! A days worth of photographs, covering a great distance and a bunch of reshoots even... GONE!!! I think I was very close to tears, and had a sick feeling, just thinking about it.

Oh, thank heavens! I found them!!! I had just copied them to a different folder!

While shooting the McDonough Starbucks a group of four high-school cheerleaders walked across the parking lot towards the store. Oh why, why, why haven't I bought that extra powerful zoom lens yet???

Oops--almost left Macon without getting day shots of the two original stores!

Okay, what the fuck is the name of this gas station (in Macon)--there is no name on the sign, just a lightning bolt. Owner must have been a fan of the 90s-era Prince.

More billboards for massage parlors on the interstate to Macon than I could remember seeing around any other city.

Meanwhile, my jeans were sagging more and more around my waist. How was it that my waistline was shrinking, but not my obscenely huge gut?

OMG! Canoga & Sherman finally opened! The listing had been on the Starbucks web site for at least 8 months, maybe longer.

North Augusta fan goodies DVD shower. Had one of my top fan experiences in North Augusta, when I met up with a young woman who had e-mailed and offered a "shower stop". I'd had many offers of places to stay, but as far as I could remember hers was the only offer explicitly of a shower. We met at the new Starbucks, and she greeted me with a bag of goodies, light foodstuffs and other treats. Before meeting her, I had had my doubts about taking advantage of the shower offer, for the simple reason that it seemed strange to shower at a strangers house. But she seemed nice enough, not dangerous. And when I learned she was a librarian I immediately perked, since the "sexy librarian" is a classic male fantasy. With contact lenses, a make over, and some sexy clothes, this women could definitely qualify for "sexy librarian" status. So I followed her back to her place for the shower, now a little hopeful, but a shower was all I was getting. No surprise when I got out, no massage offer. Probably for the best, since her husband got off work at 9:00, and I wouldn't have been surprised if he had rushed home knowing that she had invited a stranger over for a shower. Heck, I'm surprised the husband even agreed. She said that he was pretty open-minded (though not open-minded to be comfortable with her massaging a strange man), and also that she had a lot of skater friends who would come by the house all the time.

On the drive to Columbia, the dizziness, hadn't felt it in a while.

Back in Chattanooga I had made the mistake of dumping potato chips in the back of my car. I got most of them out, but these were magic potato chips, and over the course of the next few days they proceeded to breed. No matter how many I scooped out, if I didn't get them all, in the morning I would find more.

At 3:00 AM I woke up to do my business. As usual, in my half-asleep state any movement of trees looked like a person, changing traffic lights appeared to be cars pointing at me. But this was Columbia, and things were pretty quiet on the side street, Lincoln, I had chosen, next to a park. But after a few minutes, I noticed that there was an honest-to-goodness person, and old man, sitting on a bench inside the enclosed park. And he was reading. Very strange. Suddenly, I saw him looking around in my direction. He must have heard my car door shut when I dumped the kiwi juice, or maybe even my nose blowing. He did not appear to see me though, because of the shade from the trees, my partially fogged windows, and the blankets I had put up against my back windows for cover.


June 14

Oh, mush-minga. I was hoping to sleep until 8:00 to better be able to stay up for the new Fantastic Four film. At 7:00 AM the sky was overcast, making it a great day for sleeping in. At 7:00 I moved around the corner for more privacy, and because the cars turning onto Broad were disturbing me. Couldn't fall back asleep, though.

Interesting. I took a closer look at a photo I had been sent, one that I took at a Starbucks with staff, and I discovered someone had altered the chalkboard we were holding up to read "...Welcome you to Gay Pride Week." Presumably the person who photoshopped the image intended an insult, not realizing that I support the homosexuals, although I don't support any type of false pride. Accomplishments deserve pride--conditions that one was born with, whether sexual orientation or good looks, do not. However, the photo might not have been directed at me, but rather at one of the other partners in the photo. Making the situation more intriguing was that, by coincidence, I had run into one of those partners at a store in Greenville, and he had been a bit cool to me. But his cool demeanor was such that it might just have been his way of talking to everybody and not had anything to do with me. Hard to tell. But seeing this photot, I had to wonder if he himself had seen the photo, thought I was attacking gays, and reacted to me for that reason. Alternatively, perhaps he himself had altered the image and sent it to me out of meanness. Or maybe just as a harmless joke. The upshot of this is that I didn't know whether to categorize the e-mail as Hate Mail, Fans, Misc, or some other category. I hate it when I can't categorize things properly.

8:48, one of the Star Wars themes running thru my head.

Former high school classmate IM'ed me, and she did know know about the movie. I guess that old teacher of mine never forwarded my e-mail to other classmates like I asked? Well, to be truthful, I was a pain in the ass back in high school, so I can't exactly say I expect any favors.

Oh, well, I figured it was too good to be true.

Wait, wait... is there still hope?

Finally got into a Hyundai dealership to see about that "AIR BAG" indicator light. I was told that the things I had under my seat were interfering with the sensors. While I waited I was able to take advantage of the free Wi-Fi. I appreciate this. What I did not appreciate, however, was that they used a filtering software that blocked my Bittorrent download. Also, they blocked adult sites. Fuckers.

Mixed feelings in Atlanta as a barista came up to me while I was still in line and said "Hi Winter" and handed me a sample. He recognized me from the movie, which was cool, and the first such occurrence, but he had seen the movie illegally--it was sent to him by a friend. !@#$%^& I thought, and I wanted to say "Man, you owe me some money!"

Flying Biscuit, yeah baby!

Before the new Fantastic Four movie I killed time with Knocked Up, one of the few outright comedies I've seen. I saw the movie because of the reviews and an interview on Fresh Air, and despite my distaste for the film's theme, that of keeping and unplanned child, which, looked at from a purely rational perspective with no primitive emotional bias, is one of the most selfish and sociopathic acts a human can make. Theft, rape, and murder have less of a detrimental impact on the universe than birthing and raising an accidental child without having a high probability that the child can be raised properly, by which I mean raising the child to be a true human rather than an animal, as most humans are raised to be.

MLK homeless


June 13

6:36, should have been enough, even minus the 15-30 minutes to relocate, but I still felt pretty sleepy. Forced myself up anyway so I'd have as much time as possible to visit all the new Starbucks between Loganville and my cousins in Kennesaw, and thus avoid backtracking. The day already started with backtracking, over 7 miles, to reshoot that Loganville store. But that seemed like a waste when I arrived and discovrered the sun facing the wrong way. I might as well have gone with the dusk shot. Cost me an hour--not worth it.

Bagel Time Cafe & Deli, real fried egss, yay for my taste buds, boo for my arteries.

Okay, the display on my phone is totally backwards, right-to-left. The poor thing is on it's last legs, no doubt!

And my power converted, it had completely fritzed out, meaning I had to keep my laptop off most of the time, and then take it into each Starbucks and plug it in immediately while I was there.

Cat-like howling from the back room of the new Lawrenceville store once all the customers left as a very excitable barista looked for that song, you know that song, from Beetlejuice. She put it on, and much dancing ensued in the brief respite from customers they had. They called it the "theme song" from the store.

Ach! Gwinnett Mall store doesn't open 'til 10:00. I couldn't wait 75 minutes, so my route was thrown off.

As I photoed Moore Rd a young man in a odd-gray-green car pulled up, rolled down his window, and said something like, "If it means anything, I'm from Chicago, and this is the best [yadda yadda yadda] mocha latte I've ever tasted." The way he said it, and the look on his face made me suspect his comment was just a pretense to come on to me. I think what he really wanted to say was "I'd love to taste your moicha latte." Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'm just more partial to traveling frogs, is all. I suggested he go to the Starbucks web site. Not to come on to it, but to give kudos to that store. Not that there's necessarily anything wrong with coming on to a machine, necessarily, depending on the machine. That Xlerator, for example--pure sexy.

As I drove east an inclined portion of McGinniss a bird soared along the path of my car, but higher. It appeared to be a awk of some sort, and very elegant. I could get down with being a hawk, I think.

The only thing worst than a Starbucks in a mall is two Starbucks in a mall. At Mall of Georgia... II (!!!), I was given directions to the first and had to double back to find the second. Upon entering, the supervisor/manager was stocking coffee, and when she turned around and asked "What can we do for you?", her look and demeanor was so viscerally unpleasant that I decided not to tell her who I was. Just paid for a coffee and left. On the bright side, I found a folded up dollar bill on the staircase.

Across the freeway from Gwinnett Mall, a Best Buy where I replaced my power inverter. Noticed something new, spanish

Next mall, a cantanekerous old white-haired Foghorn Leghorn type. Decided to stealth that one, too. To make matters worse, I had to wait 3-4 minutes for the coffee to brew, and he charged me anyway. Usually they don't charge you if you have to wait.

KEEP SEEING THE SAME STREET OVER AND OVER! SPACE WARP!!! FUUUUUCK!!! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!! How do I get back on the freeway!!!

Yet another reason why laws are primitive way of maintaining order and should be replaced with a more effective system.

Rushed to German's so we could go have lunch with my other cousins in the area. No DVDs yet, but my mail, and my bundle of joy!

While photographing the Cherokee store, a truck passed behind me, and I could have sworn it sounded like Donald Duck.

As I headed to Ellijay along I-575/SR-5, about 80 MPH, day sunny, windows down with a breeze to cool me off, replacement credit card in my backpack, a new box of DVDs, a messful of comics, I felt a rather peaceful glow come over me, a moderately deep sense of satisfaction.

DVDs arrived just in time, as I sold my final one from the first batch in Ellijay--49 in almost exactly two months!

Why ouchie-head? Hoped not food poison from that Chinese restaurant my cousins picked.

Wrong turn out of the Ellijay store plus trouble finding the new Chatanooga store, plus a craving for Jason's Deli, cost me enough time that I did not reach the Rome store until night, so I had to stay in town. Couldn't find the Wal-Mart according to the directions I'd been given, so I wandered around quite a bit, in part because Cory called. Settled on a space next to a furniture warehouse/company, in front of a big truck. Unsure what time people would show up, at 5:00 I moved over to downtown, Broad Street.


June 12

7:34, not quite 8 hours.

Oh, shabubaruba!!! When I awoke in the middle of the night and turned on my laptop to jot down dream notes, I discovered the random place I had parked had Wi-Fi. I started downloading Daily and Colbert, but the connection was slow, and by the time I got up they were only at 40%. I figured downloading would be faster at the Starbucks, so I headed straight there instead of arranging my car, and I was disapppinted to learn there was no T-Mobile! Mine own fault--I had passed by the store at night looking for a place to sleep, and I had not bothered to check. I broke the Boy Scout rule, always check for Wi-Fi!

On the bright side the zit that had been bubbling up in an awkward location, right above my upper lip, had finally blossomed to the point that I could pop it. Ordinarily zits wouldn't be an issue, since women ignore me anyway, but I happened to be at the part of The Dark Tower where Pimli Prentiss was popping one of the many infected zits on his face. The characters were in a place affected by radiation, I think, that caused them to break out. Kind of creepy to think about, really, but that's Stephen King for you. Anyway, I did not want my face to start breaking out because of radiation.

Before getting back on the freeway stopped at a restaurant I had noticed the night before, Junction. Turned out that breakfast was buffet style, but I was able to order a-la carte. Biscuit could have been really good had it been fresh. Eggs were just nasty. Nastier still, when, in a fit of clumsiness, I tipped over the styrofoam container and dumped egg into my coffee!!! Nasty! I had to drink and eat that! Yuck-o-la. Took me almost a minute or more to chew up those eggs, so yucky was the taste.







Incidentally, under the register at Junction was a b/w photo of a young woman, Trace something Bouye, who bore a striking resemblance to Eva Longoria, but with a face that was not quite as skinny. Never really liked Eva--her face is too skinny

Pelham store, still no Wi-Fi! Rats! I needed Wi-Fi to shave!

Started brushing my teeth and immediately detected an unusual smell. Neither toothbrush nor paste had changed, so it must have been one of the cleaning products used in the bathroom. Unless... unlesss... the previous night, at the movies, someone had broken into my car, stolen the air bag, and coated my toothbrush with a foul-smelling substance!

Wi-Fi at ABC, but bathroom not private. Still, downloaded Fresh Air, and, what was one of the segments. Of course, Sopranos!!! You know a show is influental when every NPR show under the sun covers the finale!

ABC also had plastic forks that were super sharp, sharper than any in recent memory. You could kill a person with these forks. Just holding one made me feel like 007, only not as cool.

Vector brand 225 watt power converter finally starting to flake out--with the engine turned off, the power seemed to cycle on and off.

Nuts, nuts, nuts! I was afraid of this. Down to one DVD left, and I have a discrepancy. According to my records I should have one more, unless I sold one and forgot to record it, or lost one, or misplaced one in the car. AARRGHH!!!

One of the stores was conveniently located near Stax's Original Restaurant, a hearty meal at a great price. But unlike my previous two visits, when they could do not wrong, this time they tried to give me some kind of tomato saucish-type concoction instead of the great northen beans I ordered. Sneaky, sneaky.

My "classic" Nokia phone kept turning off, and when I passed Sprint store I decided to see what kind of replacement I could get for free. After waiting, and waiting, and waiting, a manager asked the rest of us if we had questions. I took the opportunity to ask what phones were available free, and my choices were limited to... one, and not a Nokia. And this free one was of the flip variety. I don't like flip phones. All of a sudden, my ailing Nokia was looking pretty good, and I felt a twinge of separation anxiety.

Didn't expect any clubs to be open so early in a small town like Greenville (even if it was booming enough for 9 Starbucks), but Ladies 'n Lace was both open, had no cover, and had $10 table dances. The place looked like a true dive. No soap, no paper towels in the bathroom. Shabby furniture and fixtures. And the ladies were of dive-quality, too. I would have left quickly, except I happened to spot one, one single dancer, who was actually cute. And somewhat frisky too, even for the $10 table dance--unlike the Rhino, there was no bouncer, just a DJ, and he did not seem to pay attention to what was going on in the back. And, in a rare occurence, the dancer actually solicited me for activites outside the club later. Irrelevant, since nbody short of a Playboy model could have persuaded me to stick around Greenville all day, not unless she was giving it away for free, and even then I'd have to think about it.

Dishwasher Pete gave up his quest for love. Wuss.

Holy shit!!! It's fucking June in Georrgia and HAIL is coming down!!!

Funny situation in Athens as I ran into a barista who had e-mailed me years earlier from Knoxville and promised to "show me a good time" when I got to the city. Well, when my travels finally took me to Knoxville, I did e-mail her, but she never responded. She remembered me, though, in Athens, though it seemed that the enthusiasm that appeared to be in her original e-mail had long since faded. She also seemed like she wasn't into boys, so I'm not sure what kind of good time she would have shown me, but then again, I have a notoriously lousy gaydar.

Cool, perhaps, but hard to read barista in Loganville, the first Katrina I had met in a long time, interesting tattoo, bright reddish hair that had to be colored, right?

Johnny's Pizza and Pasta offers free meals for children on Monday and Tuesday. I was unsuccessful in convincing them that I am totally a child.

I'd thought I'd smelled it before but been too sleepy to be sure. No doubt about it this time, however--the urine residue in the cup left in the car all day long produce a definite popcorn smell. When I took the lid off the venti cup, the smell was pretty strong but dissipated quickly. I could probably avoid the smell by washing out the cup in the morning, but why bother--the funky smell from living in my car for months has to be much stronger.

Woke up around 1:00 AM to hear a radio and see lights next to my car. I could hardly believe it--I had never been bothered at a Wal-Mart before. I immediately told the officer that Wal-Mart authorized overnight parking. He replied that was for eighteen wheelers (wrong), but that this particular Wal-Mart didn't allow anybody in the parking lot overnight. He confirmed that there was no sign posted--they had simply told the cops. Niiice, Wal-Mart. I was miffed that I had already filled my gas tank, which I would not have done had I known I would be ejected. The cop was polite, didn't even ask me for ID, but I still didn't want to run into him again, so I was extra choosy on where to park next and drove out to Snellville, finally finding an office park with many cars in the lot and dark enough that my fogged up windows wouldn't be as noticeable. I figure that's what tipped off the cop. Maybe he thought kids were making out or something.


June 11

6;43, and as I hopped to the front of the car, I felt that the right leg of my shorts had ridden up some. Had the parking lot not been empty, somebody might have gotten a half-moon. Maybe a quarter. Coulda been worse. Could have been a "dangling participle" had "Little Winter" been mispositioned.

Uh-oh. A spot appearing in my frame. I removed the lens and checked the mirror but could not remove the spot. Since I cannot be without my camera for even an instant, which means I cannot send it away for repair, I might have to buy a D80.

Another dilemma--how to avoid finding out what happened to Tony Soprano in the season finale until I can catch up (I'm only a few eps into season 2). The Morning Edition report did not spoil the ending, but then at the top of the hour there was a brief report that I had to turn the volume down and start howling for.

Interesting, the NPR affiliate in North Carolina, at least where I was some 30 miles south of Greensboro, reported on local triple AAA baseball, including what is probably the most well-known team, the Durham Bulls.

Finally reshot Battleground Village, the second store I ever visited in North Carolina. Across the parking lot was a store new to me, Earth Fare, and even though I had already eaten the passable Breyers yogurt from Wal-Mart, I got a craving for that yummy yummy Brown Cow. I'm gonna marry that cow someday!

Another long e-mail from Amy, indicating she had finally seen the film. So she hadn't decided to blow me off yet, but one of her many questions was about strip clubs. I suggested she ask her parents to explain the male fascination with nude females rubbing up against them. So far Amy seemed like a younger, prettier, and thinner version of Jodi, but it remained to be seen whether she was as tolerant. Once again, I had to reserve optimism until she found the explicit strip club photos buried somewhere in my blogs and decided I was a cad.

Hmmm... I can't decide what detracts from a good-looking woman's attractiveness more--smoking, or driving an SUV. Either way it's so very sad to see.

Holy smokes!!! I had missed University Parkway in Winston-Salem for a weird reason. My program stripped leading spaces from the names of stores when downloading from the Starbucks web site, and it turned out that there was already a store named "University Parkway", without the space, in Florida. That sneaky Cabal, at it again! Thankfully, the Cabal cannot control the grass-roots support for my mission, and I was clued into the existence of the store by a barista at Reynolda.

Billy Bob's Silver Diner, vegetable plate was tiny. I was soon hungry again.





This report about Starbucks in Saudi Arabia is troubling, but the issue is more complex than most of the commenters make it out to be. To simply call for Starbucks to pull out of Saudi Arabia ignores the fact that human rights violations can probably be found in every country on the planet, including China, but starting with the United States itself. Just because the U.S. doesn't commit some of the abuses that occur in countries like China and many Middle Eastern countries doesn't mean the U.S. is perfect. Far from it. The U.S. is horrible on human rights, all the way from the Federal government down to local cops (L.A., for example). What should Starbucks do? I can't say. But I can say this--when the majority of the baord of directors and shareholders of Starbucks (and most other companies) go to bed at night, they are not thinking about solving the world's problems. And that is the true problem, the very existyence of people who are not interested in making the world a better place.

Sopranos segment on Here and Now. Sopranos segment on Day to Day. Sopranos segment on Talk of the Nation.

While waiting for a reshoot of Mooresville, one of the young kids in the evil SUV next to me moved into the drivers seat and started playing with the steering wheel. The mom had left the engine running, so I went inside and asked her if the kids knew how to put the car in gear. She said no, but she quickly rushed out to the car. She thanked me profusely, over and over. In retrospect, I probably should just have let the situation develop. If the kids did get the car moving and died in a explosive crash, that would just mean fewer potential SUV drivers in our future.

Usually it's the other way around--it's the supervisor who hasn't heard of me, but this time it was the manager, who happened to show up just as I was asking for the supervisor, and she interceded and looked me up and down like I was day-old-garbage. Well, maybe half-day old.

In Charlotte, strangeness abounded, as I grabbed my money and noticed that the number of single had multiplied exponentially. I had eighteen!!! I usually try to keep it to no more than four (I have a secret stash of five in my backpack). So how did I accumulate eighteen???

Cool!


The Stonecrest store was in the same shopping center as a Regal cinemas, and the timing worked out for Fracture. Midway through the previews, the projector cut off all of a sudden. I was all by myself in the auditorium, so it was up to me to get the message to a projectionist. I suspected that if I did not, the problem might go unfixed. About 10-20 minutes into the movie, the picture died again. When it happened a third time, I decided to try for another movie. As I left, a projectionist was headed in to tell the rest of the audience (four young men) that the film would not continue. Unfortunately, I had missed the start of the other films I wanted to see. So I had wasted a good hour, plus that might have been my last chance to see the film.

On the bright side, the sun had come out, and I was able to get a better photo of the Starbucks. Additionally, I was able to get to the two Hickory stores and then Asheville before the mall closed.

Worst pizza in recent memory, stuffed, a place in Stonecrest, wish I would have jotted down the name so I could warn people away.

Mein gott, that never ceases to amaze The wheels stop turning, but the rims keep spinning! Truly, this is a wondrous time to be alive and sighted.

Why is my face so greasy today? Bugging the hell out of me.

Oh, and we can't leave out All Things Considered--another Sopranos report.

Across from the mall in Asheville is a movie theatre, but my timing was off. There was another theater, on Hendersonville, though, and on my way out to SC. Timing worked out for Bug. Very creepy movie.

For no apparent reason, the "AIR BAG" indicator in my car was on and stayed on.

Went over to the Wal-Mart parking lot next to the theater. The store was closed, and the parking lot was pretty dark had plenty of cars spread out. Ordinarily that would have been great, but there were two employees out in the lot, smoking maybe. I chose a space towards the back and went through the whole process of changing and arranging my car. But then something creeped me out, something I couldn't put a finger on, and I decided to move along. Nothing that looked suitable all the way out to the freeway, and from that point with the windows down and listening to This American Life, I pushed on to the rest area. Two hour limit, though, and not seeing any other cars, I pushed on to Spartanburg. Found nothing suitable right around the Starbucks, so I headed to a side street near downtown.

Strange dreams. Scrabble slump fears, Matt found a word list, though I was cheating? Drew Allen as a replacement, but for the second divison, leaving me with a bye. My nemesis, identity indeterminate, outdraw me. Tough guy, football player, at the chess tables, scary. Howard leaning back in a car, high on weed.


June 10

8:24, immediately drove over to the Tire & Lube, parked, and went inside to check in. Until the last three or four oil changes, this time the attendant indoors told me I needed to check in outside. Grrr... I rushed back to my car, but another driver pulled up before me. I parked my car behind his and quickly went back inside to look for a manager. I explained my situation, and he promised to attend to my car right away.

Went to the J Clyde Morris store to say goodbye to Amy. Was relieved to see that she did not appear to try to avoid me. But that meant nothing until she had a chance to see my movie and pour (or is that "pore") through my blogs, if she so cared. If she was still talking to me then, then that would be a good sign. I resolved to reserve optimism until then. "Resolve to Reserve"--hey, that would make a good name for an album and song when I finally decide to start my rap career.

Killtronic, I'm lusty but I'm not a perv.
To love all the ladies I resolve to reserve.
Whether with jam or strawberry preserve
I'll give every hottie just what she deserve.


Finally! An audience member on Talk of the Nation Science Friday asked the question that's been burning in my mind for years and years, why the issue of population growth is so seldom discussed in the context of global warming and environmental change. He even asked if the topic was taboo. And the answer from the scientist? Almost five minutes of talking around the topic and never directly addressing the issue! I cannot call scientists, researchers, and think-tankers stupid, obviously, but I am mystified as to why they so stupidly overlook or ignore the most obvious issue for dealing with climate change--the population! Are ehy afraid of backlash? Grow some balls, will ya? Tell it like it is, and like it is is that humans are the problem, and way too many of them!

Clayton store next to Waffle House triggered random waffle urge (RWU).

Damn. but Raleigh PD cars is uuuugly!

At the new Cary store met only the 2nd person to have heard about me from Talk of the Nation.

AAAH!!! FLIES!!! GET AWAY GET AWAY I HATE YOU!!!

Wow, talk about close timing. I was already making a left out of the Parkwest shopping center onto Highway 55 when I saw the group of dawdly dawdlers who had parked next to me finally exiting the store. Quickly pulled a totally illegal u and went back for the good shot. The strange middle-aged man sitting outside the store was still photographing his grande paper cup.

Oh, shit, that could have been bad!!! Made the mistake of taking a swig of coffee comingled from three different stores while watching The Daily Show. Almost spit it out all over my car. Don't think I could have scooped or sucked it up fast enough.

Too much time reshooting around Raleigh/Durham/Chapel Hill, plus bad directions, meant I didn't reach the Aberdeen store 'til dark and had to stay at the Wal-Mart. Yay, a night in Aberdeen, NC!!!


June 9

6:36, and a long drive ahead of me to Salem. Thought I could probably hold out with a PowerBar until then, but the Yuck-fil-a sign off the interstate pulled me in with its tractor beam. Fortunately for my gut, the store is in the Bristol Mall, and not open 'til 10:00, and thus I was saved from The Yuck.

But the Yuck struck again, in Christianburg, and was just too close to the Starbucks I needed to reshoot for me to pass up. Inside, I swore to myself that the kid sweeping the floor couldn't have been more than 12. The lady ahead of me agreed, though she did not seem to share my sentiment, nor to care, that that age was too young to be working. Later, out in the parking lot, I saw her taking a toddler out of her car and wonder how long it would be before she was dragging his skinny ass back for an application.

My first three purchases of the day were all for $1.94! Had I been infected with the disease that is religious belief, I might have considered that a sign. But of what?

Aw, no Chelsea in Salem. She was in Texas, of all places.

Dude!!! Pulled into a gas station on US-460 15 miles out of Lynchburg, license plate # "1"!!! Passed on from generation to generation, or bought?

OH MY GOD!!! THE FUCKING DAILY SHOW IS TOO FUCKING FUNNY! I DON'T KNOW IF I'LL BE ABLE TO KEEP MY CAR ON THE ROAD!!! I AM GOING TO DIE!

Okay now why does anybody want to live in a town named "Hurt"? Isn't that just asking for pain?

Fly-infested Bojangles staffed by unprofessiolites. Felt gross just standing there, but I was already started to develop a hunger headache, and my map showed few choices along the highway from Danville to Chesapeake.

In Brodnax, VA, a gas station called "Slip-In". Hey, that's my whole philosophy of life. Farther down, a billboard for a real estate agent who looks a lot like Carlos from Desperate Housewives.

Oopsie! Almost suckered by a fake Starbucks at the Farm Fresh in Chesapeake. Sneaky, sneaky!

Finally met Amy at a posh apartment complex that she wouldn't be able to afford for long. Reset the meter and then went for dinner and to see Ocean's Thirteen. She had sounded a bit off on the phone, so I wasn't sure what to expect, but Amy turned out to be more attractive than I expected and had a great personality. Between traveling, Starbucks, and poker, we already had some things in common. During the film, I started to develop fantasies of running off to a casino, winning at the tables, and then robbing the joint, Bonnie and Clyde style. But it was almost midnight when the movie ended, and Amy had to open in the morning, and besides she wasn't the type of girl to rob a casino on the first date.


June 8

6:49, headed immediately south/west for the Wal-Mart, but when I did not see it within a half mile I turned around and decided to try to head back to the Starbucks for a photo and then reach the Wal-Mart to be first for an oil change. Reached the Wal-Mart about 7:02 and saw that it was not a Supercenter and did not have a Tire & Lube Center. It was okay, I was still a few hundred miles from being due anyway.

Aaaaaah, hot and humind in Owensboro, and mosquitos!!!

Rainstorm, and for the first time in 11 weeks (unless my log says otherwise), I took a nap. A good idea, I think. With the lengthened days, it was easy for me to slip into a sleep-deprived state, and I didn't want to prolong that and risk getting zwick.

Finally bought Streets & Trips 2007. $39.99 + tax, but I figured it was worth the price in the time and gas I'd save from getting lost.

I walked into the Paducah store, in the mall, and immediately went back to to the restroom. I stood there holding my yank, wondering whether to pull out the Playboy's Lingerie I had in my backpack (always prepared, like a Boy Scout, onlt not homophobic) when I suddenly felt a hunger pang. Just as instantly my mind flashed back to the two ladies that had walked out of the mall holding Yuck-fil-a bags, and I knew that it was going to happen. I wasn't going to be able to prevent it. The craving. The evil craving. While I stirred sugar into my sample, I tried to tell myself, "don't do it, don't do it", but I knew it was a lost cause. I tried to distract myself by checking out the Borders Express for new Plaboy SE's, but not even the new College Girls and Girls on Girls could shake the craving from my bones. I bought the chicken sandwich, knowing full well I would soon regret it.

As I approached the mall doors with my "food", I spotted a tall blonde drink of water about to enter. I quickly changed direction so I would exit through the same doors she was coming in and be able to get a better look at her rack, but she must have read my mind--she changed directions herself and took a different door. Rats!!!

Ach, tipped cup back too quickly and spilled some coffee on my chest and stomach. Had to wipe it up with my fingers and then lick my hand. Glad it had only been three days since my last shower.

AAAAAAAHHHHH!!! I finally ran the query that I had been fearing, and the results were disturbing. Not even two months since I last departed California, on April 12, and there were already 43 new stores opened (not even coutning the ones opening this weekend). Adding in the other states that I had already visited and did not plan to return to, there were 82 new stores, which meant I was already mathematically eliminated from reaching 99% without going back to California.

Okay, okay, I confess! I can't help but be thrilled that Paris Hilton is going back to jail. Hah!

Uh-oh... primary credit card reaching its limit. Had to ask dad to ship me my mail to Atlanta so I would have my replacement secondary card. But either way, my trip was nearing a close, and a trip overseas, if possible, would not be long.

Pretty good chicken, black beans, and wild race from a place called Couva Calypso Cafe in Knoxville. Has branches in Nashville too.

Ahhhh, fou-nananananana! New Asheville store is in a mall!! Screwed up up program, because I would arrive around 10 PM and did not want to wait until 8:30 in the morning!

Rainbow!






June 7

7:06, not quite caught up, but I was looking at a 20+ Starbucks day, so I figured staying awake was nooooot going to be a problem.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no!!! After 11 weeks of desperate avoidance, I think I finally got mosquito-bit! And on my earlobe of all places. This is going to huuuurt!

Almost forgot--either Tues or Wed I broke my record of most days on the road, either 73 or 74!

Music discovery at Starbucks, Maria Taylor.

Funny how interpersonal dynamics work--at Boston the manager was training, so I spoke to the supervisor, who looked at me with suspicion and/or puzzlement even before I had annouced my purpose. When I explained what I was doing, her attitude changed not at all. But as I sugared the sample, she went over and gave my flyer to the manager, and when he expressed genuine interest in what I was doing, the supervisor's attitude did a 180. A smile developed on her face, and she asked me to sign the mini flyer I had given her.

A couple of stores later, the manager/supervisor had already heard of me and the film, but he was either extremely exhausted or he wanted nothing to do with me. I got the sense, more than in most other cases in which I received a negative reaction, that this one might have had to do with my politics. Enough time had passed since I had ramped up my anti-religious stance, and I had visited enough stores, that chances were eventually I would run into a barista who had been told that I was on an anti-God crusade. Or that I held other radical political positions. Or that I liked sex a lot. Who knows.

Before heading down to Richmond I stopped at Spearmint Rhino. I typically shunned the California locations for being too expensive, but Thursday in Lexington happened to be 2-for-1 day. Worked for me, and the dancers got more up close and personal than I would have expected from Bible-Belt Kentucky. Nevertheless, I went a little too far and was escorted out by the bouncer, the first time that had happend in 8 or 9 years. At least he didn't threaten to beat the shit out of me like the last time. Still not sure exactly what happened, whether the dancer told the bouncer to keep a close eye out before we went into the back room, or whether he just kept a closer eye out on the all-nude dances, or whether one of the earlier dancers had complained to him that I was being too frisky. Still got my money's worth, but it's a shame I won't be able to return, at least not for a few years, assuming that particular bouncer has moved on, or doesn't remember me, by then. That's probably how long it will take me to return to the area anyway, as Lexington is not along my more common route around the country. But I'm sure I'll return--the risk of getting beaten to a pulp by the bouncer is an integral part of the appeal of strip clubs.

Down in Paris, a first--the supervisor from Paris was there! That had never happened before, running into the same barista twice on the same day.

Tired of unappetizing burritos, I went for the fajitas instead. I was disappointed once again, primarily by the fact that the fajitas were booby-trapped with onions and peppers. Picking them out while on miles of deathly narrow Kentucky highways was mighty tricky, and those in the car behind me must have thought I was drunk. I nearly ran off the road 437 times.

6:45, only 40 oz coffee, allergies not bad, just ate, so why headache?

With five stores down, and five to go, and coffee from four comingled in a venti cup (one shot already downed), I came up with a new technique to protect myself against spillage, partitioning. Since I had three cup colders, I could put samples into a second cup, so that if I spilled either, I would not have to revisit all the stores.

Whew! 20 stores in about 3 1/2 hours, enough to complete the Lexington and Louisville markets. I dub this... the Kentucky Krump!

Curses! About 15 minutes too late for the final screenings at the movie theater in the same parking lot as that last Starbucks. Still have many movies to watch. Since all the caffeine would make it hard for me to sleep, that would have been a good time for a film.

Hot and humid, much sweat before I managed to fall asleep in the Meijer parking lot.


June 6

Alarm woke me right at 7:00 and I was soon headed out to Herndon. All episodes of The Colbert Report appeared to have downloaded, yay!

Finally looked up Hasan (Elahi)'s web site, TrackingTransience.net
. This idea is important. Listen to Studio 360.

Random Yuck-fil-a breakfast biscuit craving.

The shortest, if not necessarily fastest, route from Herndon to Clarksburg, WV, was along US-50. I eagerly took it, because I hope to drive all of that highway someday. And after reaching Clarksburg, I'd be glad never to drive that particular stretch again. Boooooring.

What was that furry creature on the road? It was kind of cute. I had to swerve around it, and as I looked in my rearview and saw several trucks behind me, I feared that the creature was not long for this world.

Oh, shit, The Colbert Report is funny! I was choiking on mty beans and rice and struggling to keep my car on the road!

Another one! This time I got a closer look. I'm thinking beaver, because the road ran along a stream. Scurried back into the woods before I could get a photo.

Starbucks Road along US-19 on the way to Beckley.

The manager at Beckley suggested the furry creature might have been a groundhog.

Really bad burrito from Rio Grande.





A gentleman's club named Southern Xposure had just opened for the night at 6:00 PM, and with spare time to reach Huntington, I decided to check it out. But immediately I found three reasons to skip that club. First, the cashier's booth had one-way glass, so I couldn't see the male cashier/host/bouncer talking to me. In all the clubs I've been too, I've never found such a setup, and it creeped me out. Next, cover was $5, but $10 for out-of-state residents. Wack! And next, dances were between $50, or $35 when the DJ ran a special. More wackness! I turned right around and headed out. There was another Southern Xposure, coincidentally enough, at the Huntington Mall exit in Huntington, but I called this time and found out the same thing about the cover. Just on principle alone, I ain't paying twice the cover just for being out of state. It's not like being from WV is a privilege!

Very cute barista at the Huntington Mall had such a look of awe on her face when she met me. I think I could have had a shot if I had been a regular and able to ply my manly charms. But that was never going to happen since the store is in a mall. And in West Virginia. And if she sees my movie and decides I am crazy.

Strange dreams. Hostel/hotel expensive room $150. Records showed I had spent $209, what??? Shared room with Bill and indeterminate guy, maybe Frank but sometimes skinnier. Out in the parking lot convertible full of bleach blondes, at least seven. Alien spaceship passes overhead I shout to Bill and friend to wake up.


June 5

6:46, early enough for some reshoots in Hoboken before heading south to meet Bonnie. Across from the Newark St. & Hoboken store was a bagel shop, and I got the impression that the cashier did not appreciate the crumpled, damp, and possibly sweaty bills I extricated from my pocket. He wiped them off and set them on the register, an act I had never before witnessed.

Another new event while reshooting 12th & Hudson. While trying to find a good angle, I caught the attention of a blonde pant-suited businesswoman. She stared at me, and my first instinct was to hope she recognized me and would buy a DVD. But then she asked if I was taking pictures of people parking. What??? Irritated, I replied "Don't worry about it." She kept looking at me, and I said "The quicker you get out of my shot the quicker I'll finish and leave." She thought for a few more seconds and then moved her car.

Down to 11 DVDs, sent off payment to Heretic so I could be shipped more.

White Marsh, Columbia (Jessup), and Bowie, then went to see Michelle's new place. Asked her to look up movie listings and discovered Killer of Sheep was playing a E Street. I'd heard a lot about the film on NPR and decided to see it. Arrived a little late because I had a craving for some rice and tostones to go with my leftover stew beef and beans from Amefika's (they had run out of rice, as strange as that sounds).

Found a dark space to park along 10th Street until 1:00 AM, and then I moved in front of the Starbucks on 11th so I could download podcasts and The Colbert Report.


June 4

With a day to kill before the Stephen Colbert taping, slept as much as possible, 'til 7:46. Almost 11 hours--wowsers!

Oh, curse this aging memory! While hanging out at the Elwood store catching up on stuff and watching Heroes again, I noticed a wall behind the counter papered with Starbucks cards. I was reminded of a similar display, but framed, at another store. I was sure I had been to that store in recent months, but I could not remember where it was. Rats! In my younger years I would have been able to pinpoint it right away, 7000+ stores or not.

Grrr... photos on my site not loading. Worried that the servers might have finally been pulled. Decided to upload all the photos to my main site just in case, a process that would take many, many hours. Had to postpone plans to visit MoMA until photos were up. Around 1:30, the old site came back up, so I decided to go to the museum anyway.

Just in case Cory didn't show, or I didn't take him back to his apartment and use his shower, I called some massage places. One number was to one of those agency/parlor type places I dislike, but I was amused by the reply to my question. The person on the phone said, "tipping is at your discrepancy."

Met Cory for the taping of The Colbert Report. It was funny that my first time seeing the show was from the audience rather than on television. Girl in row in front of me was a bit homely, with glasses, a large nose, acne, but she seemed to find the show hilarious, and I guessed that she would be fun to hang out with. Though I never expected to see her again, unless I downloaded the show and looked for when the camera panned to her and then captured the image and blew it up and carried it around with me. But only a creepy stalker would do that.

After the show producer Mark said he had other work to do and could not interview me. Very disappointing. Exposure on Colbert would have been gold.

Took Cory back to Brooklyn and reset the odor meter.

Headed back through Manhattan to get out to Jersey. Debated whether to head down to my spot on Front Street, or whether to find parking in Jersey. Finally decided I wanted to be closer to some stores I wanted to rephotograph in the morning. Ended up driving more than the detour to Front St. would have been because the neighborhoods around the Holland Tunnel in Jersey City all had 2-hr parking restrictions except with permit. Had to move over to Hoboken, next to an empty lot. Around 4:00 AM had to move the car to the other side of the street because of 6-8 AM parking restriction for street cleaning.


June 3

Three LI store on the way to Scrabble, then Southhold.

Keeping the TV show alive through bagels.






June 2

Awoken by Woody at 7:21. I told him I probably couldn't give him a ride to Port Jefferson, but it was good he woke me anyway, because I was wasting light. Those unnecessary coffees from the stores I revisited on Friday actually came in handy, to get me going.

A small dog, chihuahua maybe, wearing booties on each paw? Only in New York?

Great, when I finally decide to do these rephotographs, what do I find? 100 Williams Street, scaffolding. 195 Broadway, street construction blocking my angle. Liberty Plaza, closed on Saturday.

A positive interaction with a security guard, for a change, at World Financial (Place/Plaza/Center?). I had no choice but to shoot in view of him, and I was not able to get the shot I wanted before he walked over to me. But instead of telling me photography wasn't allowed, he asked if I was making a documentary. I replied, "funny you mention that, there actually is a documentary." We got to chatting, and he even asked me to recommend where to go on a cross-country road trip.

Headache lurking in the back of my head. Not sure of the reason. I thought I was drinking enough water, and I had a steady stream of coffee too. 10:19, finally gave in and popped the pills.

As I drive around, hour by hour, the never-ending frenetic character of the City increases, exponentially it seems.

Vanity plate, "NEGRESS"

Fuck, man, some type of gunk, little rocks maybe, from the construction truck, sprayed all over me!


In front of the Allen & Delancey store, a woman screaming at her husband. Anywhere else, the top-of-her lungs screaming would have attracted attention, but not here, not over the traffic and street noise. And who notices these scenes in NYC anyway?

Cop leaning against a wall a door down from the Penn Station LIRR store. I had no choice but to shoot in full view of him. I shot a few frames then went up to him and pretended to ask for directions. Then I went in the Starbucks and proceeded to spill an Odwalla all over the floor. They let me buy a different one. I went back to my position and waited for a good shot. For good measure, I took a photo of the performer behind me, to emphasize the fact that I was a tourist and not a terrorist (alike though the words might sound). The cop, young, made notes in a notepad. About what, I don't know. When I finished, I left as quickly as possible.





Couldn't find parking in time for Radio Golf at 2:00. Cory. Laudry, Radio Golf.

Bar that served as the Firecracker in the quickly-cancelled, but excellent, series, The Black Donnellys.






June 1

Tried to sleep as long as possible in case the midnight movie down in NYC was one at wanted to see, but 7:05 was it.

On the way to Nanuent stopped to reshoot Nyack, and the restaurant Strawberry Place looking interesting. Pretty good waffle. As I headed back out of town, I pulled into Murray's Deli, a gas station, intending to fill up just so I could park the car and take a photo of the restaurant. But then I noticed a sign explaining that the owner had bought out his Sunoco contract and switched to Citgo, citing as the reason not wanting to buy from the "terrorist-friendly countries of the Middle East". I promptly pulled out, not wanting to do business with this idiot.





Nanuet visit was unusual. The barista was nice enough when she went to get the manager, but then while I waited I asked for water. She reached for a grande cup, and I asked for a venti. When she gave it to me, she said she could do it that time, but only grandes from now on. I asked who had told her than, and her attitude suddenly turned sour. I explained that I had visited 491 stores in the past 10 weeks, and that was the first to impose that restriction. She went back into the back, and I had the feeling she was telling the manager something about me, because when he came out to meet me his attitude was definitely one of suspicion. But I can't know whether it was something she said, something about my appearance, something about the neighborhood (strip mall has a security guard), or just the fact that he's probably -from the City (based on his accent).

Shit, I did it again. Down in Hillsdale, I accidentally deleted a photo of Nanuet. I still had another, from a different angle, thank heavens, but I deleted the good angle!

With a day, day and a half to kill in NYC, I had time to try and get photos of some stores that were in buildings that were closed off to the general public after September 11th. I worried that my backpack would be searched and wished I still had that small Nikon 2500. At the first location, the security guard explained the store was only open to tenants and visitors. I said I wanted to speak to the manager, and he pointed me over to a phone with which I could call. I knew that wasn't going to work, so I asked him again, for the head of security. He said he was, and I explained my purpose. He chuckled and asked me to wait while he called his boss, who okayed it. Unlike last time, he did not walk me all the way back to the Starbucks, but rather just used his card to open the gate and let me proceed. As I waited in line I could see him glance over at me periodically, but once I moved up in the line I was out of his sight, and I readied my camera. I ordered a short coffee, and when the barista turned to get my coffee I pounced. She didn't say anything. For a second I thought I was busted when I young man in an official-looking black blazer said something like "hold up". But he just wanted to get in the shot, and I obliged him. Maybe he'll be famous now. I then quipped, "hey, did you used to be in New Edition". Of course, given their ages , it's possible neither he nor the barista had never heard of the band.

On second thought, given how goofy he looks in this photo, I'm doubting anybody will be calling him for a recording contract anytime soon.





The next store was much easier. I just went up to the guard and asked about the Starbucks, and he pointed down the hallway. To take the photo, I had to back out into the hall and expose myself to the guard. I'm not sure if he noticed or not, but I took my shot quickly and got out of there. Didn't risk going for a perfectly framed shot.

As I walked back to my car I passed a man pulling a street vendor's push cart. I was reminded of the movie Man Push Cart even though the man was fair-skinned, not of Asian descent. The cart had a sign indicating German food. Man, that has got to be a hard job, hauling a push cart around the city and selling all day, especially in the extreme cold or heat. A job no true human should have, really.

Next was the one that I thought had been downstairs, but still had a Starbucks logo visible all the way across the building through doors in the front. The back entrance was as I remembered, but I had thought the store was downstairs. Instead, there were just some steps leading to a pit. But that had to be the store, I thought--if not, which one could it possibly be? I had already been through all my photos twice. Anyway, this time all three guards definitely saw me taking some shots, but they said nothing, and I quickly left, unnecessary coffee in hand.

Meanwhile, traffic was as crazy as every in NYC, but I just didn't mind at all. I felt a mild sense of satisfaction from having gotten photos of those stores. Technically, all I needed to do was drink the coffee, which I had already done years earlier, but I felt that the more effort I put into the project, the greater the likelihood that the prophecy would be fulfilled. As long as 909 Third didn't disqualify me. That one was also protected by security, so I asked a passerby to get me a coffee, and I took a photo through the window. And then the store closed. I hoped that once I visited all 30,000+ company-owned stores, the Siren would not deny me her fruit because of that.

Hey, it's the smoke monster!!!

Nuts. Rain. Bad because hot, little wind in the city, I'm going to bake.

900 Third

says something I can't hear over Fresh Air and then quickly reaches out and punches the pole holding up the parking sign

Front St space now meters until 10:00 PM, 11:00, thirst, Borat, no Duane, Aloha Maid, deli Bolthouse, drunkness, pants ass. When I get back to my spot, sure enough, it' been taken, and I have to take a spot a couple of blocks north, near Pine. It is more exposed, but since there was some dude sleeping out on a bench a couple of hundred feet away, I didn't expect to be bothered locked up in my car like I was.


May 31

Son of a bitch! A parking ticket! Said I was over time from 1:00 to 7:00 AM, but there was no sign indicating this! By the time I photographed the Biltmore store, got breakfast, and did an interview with Swedish radio,

Eddie & Son





The Meriden store is a little bit south of downtown on Broad Street, but I took a detour down Main, where my map showed the restaurants were. Stumbled across Spanglish Delights--chicken, rice, and beans wermerely okay, but the tostones were excellent, just the way I like them.





A bonanza!!! Three DVDs at one store, plus one earlier in the day. Four total, the most in a day so far!

Connecticut, extreme allergies! Worst of the trip, even worse that Illinois. Not only congestion, runny nose, and sneezing, but also coughing and itchy eyes. Don't know if this is possible, but when I coughed it felt like I was choking on particles. Pollen? Is it that big? And it also felt like there were particles irritating my eyes. Had to take three different medications to ease my misery.


May 30

Wycleff may have woken kinda high, but I woke up, even after 7:23, after some 10 hours, feeling murklefekurcklisch.

Famished by the time I reached my exit, in Lake George. Noticed the Bank Cafe, operating inside a former bank, and curiosity motivated me to try something called "stuffed French toast". It was merely okay, but also tiny. For the price, I expected a much larger piece of toast.





No new stores in Vermont, but a beautiful day to drive thru the state nonetheless... except for the crazy number of speed traps all along US-4.

Is Vermont a magical place? I awoke congested, and I suffered a steady stream of phlegm as I drove down I-87 and west on US-4. But once I got into Vermont, I was congestion-free for about an hour, ninety minutes. And then shortly after crossing into New Hampshire--congestion again!

Oh, hell yeah! Finally saw the latest Transformers trailer, and I was left speechless by the CGI.

Oh, it's New Hampshire!!! The only state in the nation without an adult seat belt law. Upon hearing that on the radio, I took it off and tried flying free, but it felt so weird. Like being naked, almost. It wasn't long before I had to put the belt back on, because it just felt too weird driving without it.

And gas under $3.00!!!

Man, didn't reach the new Portland store 'til 3:45, and I really needed that coffee--was starting to feel withdrawal.

Ooookay. Driving from Portland to Falmouth along Allen Ave, in a residential area, a sign "HUNTING WITH SHOTGUN ONLY".

Shit, there's a Red Sox game, and the one store to visit in Boston is near Fenway. One sign advertising ballgame parking at the building where the Starbucks is--$30!!! Ridiculous!!!

Haven Bros., homeless, lady sick, Panamanian, loss of sense lights no baseball game


May 29

Wahoo!!! First into the Tire & Lube Center, but only because I decided not to try and sleep an extra 10 minutes. The line had started forming before their 7:00 AM opening time even. But boooooo, they neglected to tell me I needed a new tire until after they had pulled the car out of the bay, which meant I had to wait another 45 minutes--another car was already ahead of me. Grrr... why didn't they tell me earlier.

Deour to Wilkes-Barre was my worst mistake ever. I-81 back through Scranton was fucked, and every other route I took or tried to take was fucked. As I drove through Scranton, I figured I might as well try to find some grub. A restaurant called something "Yankee" or "Yankee" something and advertised Texas Wieners and Hamburgs. And guess what--that was the extent of the menu. Wieners and burgers. No fries, nor nothing else! And I don't know what exactly a Texas wiener is supposed to be, but the ones on the grill were tiny!

Oh... my... god... after over 470 stores, I finally forgot to photograph one. And of all places, it had to be Middletown, NY. While not the most remote of locations, Middletown is not along a route I expect to drive all that often.

passers-by hold up sign, "THEY COMIN' COPS"

No forgetting to photograph New Scotland Avenue, but a different kind of annoyance. I was outside, across the street, on grass that was probably part of the Albany Medical Center, since there was no sidewalk. A guard who wanted for something better to do (after finishing his smoke), and for good grammer, said "Sir, we can't be having you taking pictures." I replied, "Fine, I'll just move out to the public street."

Whew! Despite all the day's delays, I made it to Lake Placid with just enough light left for some decent photos. The baristas recommended Caribbean Cowboy, but it was closed. The nearby Mexican restaurant was overpriced and touristy, so I settled for something unusual--Ben & Jerry's plus the banana I had in the car.


May 28

Finished Scrabble around 2:00, and rushed off towards Hanover--I didn't want to dawdle and risk missing the store in the mall in Harrisburg (Camp Hill).

After a lousy Scrabble performance, I felt a bit drained, and not eager to tolerate hunger for long. My options were limited in Hanover. Though I had a craving for spaghetti, I had to settle for a Mexican place that did not quite serve the burrito the way I like it.

WHAT THE HELL?!?! I detoured through Reading because highway signs reported traffic stopped on I-78, and then as I headed towards Allentown on US-22, traffic stopped!!! FUUUUUUUUCK!!! Never even figured out what it was, whether an actual fire with all the trucks, or just some type of Memorial Day celebration

Despite the delay, got a decent shot of Trexeltown, but I would need a better shot of the South Mall later, and I would have to stay the night for the new store in Easton and the old Easton store. Stupid backups. But it was okay, because I desperatly needed an oil change anyway, and the Wal-Mart was conveniently located near the old Easton store, where I was able to download The Riches.


May 27

Scrabble, Newtown Square


May 26

6:46, rush to Scrabble.

Brief scare at Scrabble when I thought someone had taken the canned DoubleShot I had put in the refrigerator. In my rush to get through Ohio, I had neglected to notate each store when I had bought a DoubleShot with the expiration date of the can just in case I lost one.


May 25

7:08, and pressure in my head, felt like dehydration. Thought I had drank enough water during the night, though. In the bathroom, there was only a trickle, which seemed very unusual given the water I had been drinking during the night, plus the sample coffee from that last store in Wyoming. Strange.

The new South Bend store wasn't in a mall, but the barista at the counter, who turned out to be the supervisor, made me so uncomfortable from the moment I walked into the store that I decided just to stealth it. As I stood there and ordered the coffee and asked for some more water I felt a desperate desire to leave, leave, leave and get away from her disapproving gaze. I went over to the Meijer for food, and I wondered if the barista had been in a bad mood because of her face, which had that look of heavy make-up due to acne.

In the Meijer itself, all the cashiers were older and matronly, rather than the cute sixteen-year-olds that are the highlight of many a grocery store visit. The one that rang me up also happened to seem grumpy. Rainy day and grumpy women--what a way to start a morning.

On the bright side, I caught the tail end of some Aaron Copland on the radio. He's my favorite classical music composer.

Another unexplained itch point, below my left nipple, maybe an inch, and towards the center.

Finally, 29 days after last laundry, socks #1 expired. Rapid cycling really does work (to keep socks fresher).

Holy crow, I can't believe I'd never noticed it before, but the radio refers to the South Bend areFriday, May 25, 2007a as "Michiana"!

Took of my shirt to shave and saw that I definitely had a rash where the focus of the itching had been the night before. It was very oddly-shaped, in two parts--one was like a wishbone and the other just a line. Back in the car, I did notice that the location of the rash was exactly whee my seat belt came into contact with my skin the tighest, every time I leaned over to type. But why after all this time would I develop a rash?

9:30, still headache, still possible dehydration, as indicated by dry eyes and reduced urine output.

11:35, about 80 miles since last stop in Elkhart, normal amount of urine, but headache seemed to be shifting from dehydration-like to more of a cold/flu headache, plus feelish flush.

Around 12:30, hit the interstate, speed increases around Indy, but start crashing.

A multi-colored polka-dotted mixing truck???

On Smiley, coicidence, smiling too much, creepiest barista of the day, lipstick too red, desperately wanted her to stop talking to me.

After two failed sample attempts, at the next store, I got such a bad vibe from the supervisor that I didn't even bother--I just ordered a short. He/she even asked about my t-shirt and movie, but I just said it wasn't important. I

tired hugry short fuse want scream

3:30+!!!


May 24

6:55, less than 6 hours, horrible pressure in my head. Moved from the Wal-Mart over to the Starbucks to download podcasts while I slept some more, then remembered I needed to see the first 15 minutes of Lost I had missed, and then once I got into it I decided I had to watch most of the episode again before moving on.

Dammit, lost my spare key again!

said it looked like I had lost weight

On 12 Mile, passed a new bagel shop, Bagel Time, where I met my first Albanian person. (that I could remember). She claimed that Albania had not been part of the former Yugoslavia. I found myself unsure, and I was disappointed, because I used to have European geography down cold.

Oh, for Pete's sake! After waiting 20 minutes, during which I went over to the new Troy Starbucks and back, I returned to the Hyundai dealership to learn that the parts department had run out of key blanks. I had to go over to Telegraph & Twelve Mile, well out of my way, the detour made worse by suck-ass traffic. Grrr...

"WARNING--THIS VILLAGE PROTECTED BY WITCHCRAFT". That's probably not what the blue sign said, but that's what came to mind when it flashed by.

3:38, 20 miles from Birch Run, lack of sleep starts catching up with me.

I did not relish judging people based on looks, but after the incident with the Wicked Witch of Lynnwood, I had changed tack and decided to stealth shopping mall stores if they baristas looked mean. In Okemos, the one at the register looked really mean. The one on the floor by the safe, wearing the black apron, I wasn't sure about her, but I decided to take no chances and opt for stealth.

WTF??? On some youth-oriented sh