Tattoo parlor regulars don't vary much in appearance from one part of country to the next - and I walked into Mike's tattoo in Reidsville, NC as though I had walked in the front door there a thousand times before - and inside I found it was as though I had been through those doors before - the same lazy additude, blotted grey eyes - indifference hung in the air - flash art accentuating the art covering the arms of employees - shaved heads - neo-nazi look - punctuated by words like nigger.
The south really is dirtier than the north - in vernacular and thought. The pace is like a sunday morning breakfast - greasy and blinding - blood shot eyes - hangover breakfast - eaten slowly in order to avoid throwing up - puts you back in bed, praying.
The south is dirty like this - and it is no wonder to me there is a church on nearly every corner - and a bit of skittishness in the sinning of people here - more shuffle and slump in the shoulders - as if the heat and weight of this place is killing them.
I met the most cynical child today - circumstances irrelivant - said to me as we were waiting in the car at a gas station, "What is this, non-white town?" and later "I am going to die sad and alone because I make fun of too many people - but I can always get a hooker." 13 year old boy. And I told him that he was too cynical - and he told me, "I've had a hard life." I said that things can change and that he can make right for the wrong he's done.
But I think I might be lying -