a funny conversation at the Cache

2011

Man on a motorcycle, from Kansas City

wants to know when I will get married

“settle down”

he is more concerned with “it”than me. wants to know if I’ve “got a church”

I say “Methodist” to avoid preaching/to avoid the “saving” from what I’m not so sure.

he isn’t sure about his bike, what if he breaks down on the rez? who will save him?

Lots of religious nuts on Hwy 89 like the Albertan that picked us up hitchhiking from Pendroy

he had a bible in his backseat. I’d love to tell this guy from Kansas City that

he needs to wear a helmet because religion won’t save him from

traumatic brain injury (but I don’t tell him).

he guesses that I’m 32. he has kids and grandkids they sound dull

I’m thinking how much I dislike Harleys and how I won’t be 32 for 7 years.

he is still thinking I need to get hitched

“don’t want to be old to start a family” I almost laugh

and I imagine myself with long, curly dark hair and a summer dress

standing in the doorway of a little convenience store on the highway through

pretending to be Methodist. how this stranger must see me. it really is a lovely façade

of pureness. maybe he thinks I’ve never left Montana. thinks I’m a virgin, a cook. thinks I’m not well-read

a meatloaf eater, a knitter.

he says I should “stop by” his church in Kansas City.

I say “I probably won’t” and he says he knows.

the only truths spoken.