The sound echoed across the Highway as Laurence Mathieu rode along. In about an hour the Louisiana boy would swerve off of the I-20W and head off to some nearby address that. The rev of the engine, the Confederate flag waving in the breeze (and the annoyed drivers nearby taking pictures), the Death Grips he was blasting over the Radio, and of course the dip in his mouth. Everything was so perfect together, he really enjoyed himself.
Many hours earlier.
"Au-revoir memes, au-revoir pepes!" Laurie called out, waving to his Grandparents as he headed to his motorcycle. They liked it when he spoke French to them, damned the fact he borrowed vocabulary and pronunciation from English or Spanish half the time. The parts that he got right often sounded really Parisian, which they further got annoyed by but ultimately it put a smile on their face. Laurie made absolute sure to visit them one more time before he went off on this business the suits wanted from him. Some shit all the way up in West Virginia. Damn good song came from there, he liked playing it on the long nights in the swamps or woods when it was rainy or something of the sort. Real homely that song, real homely indeed. What was he on about? Oh right, he had to get to West Virginia. Heh.
He hopped on his bike and gave his grandparents one more wave before igniting the engine. Oh, he really love that roar. It was some right primal shit, shit mountain lions and really pissed bobcats might give, shit that was like an audible shot of testosterone oh yes sirreee.
Laurie loved riding his bike, it wasn't like normal driving. You were really there, not detached from it. Sure a car with no hood still got you the breeze but you aren't really part of the experience like a motorbike. A motorbike was... well, it was like the horse of the modern day as opposed to cars and trucks, the carriages and wagons of the modern day. Sure a carriage and wagon is useful but there's something special about just riding a horse and Laurie knew that firsthand.
Nothing much changed as you rode a motorcycle but it really didn't rouse Laurie's ADHD. He was calm then and if he got bored he could switch things up. Google Maps said it was sixteen hours from home to where he had to be and that was a lot of time. But he didn't want to ride a plane he wanted to be free. He could go down scenic ways, or feel the full speed of his Harley beast on the I-20. He could thunder music, or he could listen to the Knee-koh-muh-kee-yun ethics. Laurie liked audiobooks, they changed up the monotony of shit. He liked music but sometimes he ran out of the types he liked, and so he'd have to listen to something else. He didn't agree with all this philosophy bullshit he was hearing but damn it was captivating, and it was as clever as his neck was red. Damn clever.
He got to make excuses for eating cheap shit and drinking soda instead of tea and stuff, a sort of treat he supposed, a treat for having to deal with all sort of bullshit he'd have to deal with. Knowing his luck they'd make him find some rare rhino that a poacher let loose by accident and it was distinguishable by an arrow up the ass he'd have to remove. Nonsensical sure, but nonsensical were his forte weren't it?
You know, come to think of it how did those damn suits know so much shit about? And all the shit they didn't know they asked all the right questions for it. Forgive me mama but I'll hurt a man I catch tryna screw with me. He kissed the rosary around his neck, knowing he didn't have to ask God for forgiveness. It is writ in scripture Cursed be he who stays his sword from blood, and Laurie damn well took to that. The Lord really were asking him to be the slickest badass in the East, North, South, West, East and... wait he already said East. Well he was a slick badass, that's all that mattered really. He looked to his "concealed" carry and gave it a few taps as he waited for a red light to turn green. Ain't gon' stay you from blood my lil precious.
He sped up to the motel he noticed and took a room, taking all his stuff up to the room, locking it with a chair up to protect the handle from a door kicking badass who was close to rivalling Laurie in raw testosterone. Of course, nobody could get to his level oh no, Laurie knew he was too much of a man for that. He played with his rubik's cube for a few minutes before promptly falling asleep not having bothered to undress. He woke up with a start, which he considered strange. Maybe that bigfoot feller was kidding with him again, he didn't know.
Strange, he put on an alarm didn't he? He looked at his phone and cursed in a way much less Christian than even the "shit" he was used to. He turned it off to let it charge faster, but forgot to turn it off just as he fell asleep. He ran to the shower to clean himself up before getting dressed and running right back to his bike. His phone had just turned on, but he didn't put in the password and by the time Google Maps opened so he knew where the hell to go and everything... nah. He road over to the bikers he saw clustered at the Drive-thru opposite the motel with a wave.
"Howdy boys, you know the way to the I-20?" he queried. He got a few looks from them, and realized perhaps it was a mistake to let himself be surrounded from almost every direction by strangers in a strange land. They said something cheesy that Laurie really didn't pay attention to, but he knew it summed up would be along the lines of "give us your shit." Well, it was his shit thank you very much and no yokels would get it.
He stepped off his motorbike to go through his wallet quickly thinking of a badass move. But he wasn't that badass because he got what the old movies called a knuckle sandwich. But he turned into it for a softer hit on the cheek before giving a knuckle massage of the nuts to the fellow that gave him the sandwich. He felt owed a little remuneration so he reached into the guy's pockets to grab what was in and hopped back on his bike. With a kick he rode off, one of the bikers pulling and thus unbuckling a strap of his backpack, but nothing real happened. With a smug smile Laurie unfolded his fist to look at his spoils of war and... dropped the used condom on the ground.
Still, he won! Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! he cried, turning his phone on. Popping in the address into maps he got funny results, but it didn't matter once he was in the area he got a good feel of any new land he was in.
Took him half an hour, but he got there. Folks were already there, apparently which was fine by him, it meant he wasn't nearly as late as he thought. "Howdy fellows!" He shouted, dismounting just as the flag on his motorbike fell without a breeze to hold it up. Not bothering to say any more, he headed inside.