flightless hag

A chronicle of the adventures of birdwoman: a lonely, talentless freak who wanders the internet in search of entertainment.

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Location: Philly

I'm a 40-something married white female, survivor of weight watchers, avid reader of pulp. Dogs (not cats), extreme right (handed, not politics), ENTJ, alto, wanna-be knitter.

January 17, 2007

Hey, Wanna See My Rubbers?

So, I was going through some of my old blog entries, because a reader out there actually commented on something I wrote a few years ago, and I realized I never did tell the story of the guy with the rubbers.

It was the summertime – I want to say 1992, though it might’ve been earlier. It was the year that all the weddings happened (you know, if you go to college, it seems like 50% of your friends get married within a year after graduating?) I was a poor college student, and was in 4 different weddings that summer.

Laura’s wedding was in Ohio.

I got on Greyhound and trekked to Ohio. I love Laura, and a trip to Ohio to see her happy was nothing, man. The trip back, however??

Well, it started on an overbooked bus. That broke down in Pittsburgh. However, between Cleveland and Pittsburgh, the gentleman next to me casually asked if I wanted to see his rubbers. He was probably in his 20’s, and very much the hippy. It was a bus, and a super-packed one, at that. What was the worst that could happen? I said, “sure!”

He pulls out 2 rocks and starts rubbing them together. It’s dark on the bus – a nighttime run – and I could see the eerie glow in the rocks pretty clearly.

I say, “Hey, piezoelectric crystals!” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pyroelectric_crystal

He was like, “Dude! You know what they are!”

We spent the rest of the ride talking about hippy things and science things (the best hippies are the ones who have all sorts of weird theories tied up with unusual scientific facts). When the bus broke down in Pittsburgh, we went for a walk (it was around 1am, I’m walking through an area of Pittsburgh I know nothing about, with a total stranger – yep, I was totally stupid), finally got a seat on a bus to Philly (whose bathroom door would not shut and whose potty had been VERY used – ICK), and ended up having breakfast with another hippy friend of his at the South Street Diner (I wonder if that’s still there?) listening to more crazy hippy theories. If I had any sense back then, I would have written down those hippy theories. As it is, all I remember is that his name was Dave, his friend took a total shine to my roommate, and it’s one of the strangest memories I have.




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