weekend went by far too quick.They ran ransack through the streets,
taking pictures, getting silly, just like back in Germany. The Ugly Americans.
Ollie even met a girl, although his own lack of self-confidence talked
him out of any potentiality. It wasn't even an issue, or a glint of hope.
It was just a small victory that was too good to be true. Now back in
the car for the long ride back to Seattle, the setting sun abating, Ollie
and Steve shared stories from their time in service. "War stories." They
couldn't stop laughing; trudging up every drunken moment in which they
coined some new phrase, embarrassed some over-confident grunt, gently
messed with natives. There was so much to relive, and they were both happy
to connect again. It was good for Steve and his loneliness. Good for Ollie
and his confidence.
"I need to get some gas before we get to the border," Steve told Ollie after the last round of laughter subsided. He pulled in to the Canadian Petrol Qwick Mart and stopped at the open pump.
"I need to stash what I bought," Ollie remembered out loud. "I can just stick it down my pants, they won't search our bodies, will they?"
"I don't think so," Steve responded, not sure of the process. "Just stick it in your tightie whities. Nobody would put their hands down there!"
They laughed again and Ollie proceeded to dig into his duffel bag that he carried in the truck's cab. He pulled out two large plastic vials filled with what appeared to be condensed marijuana. Steve looked flabbergasted.
"Holy shit, Ollie!" He exclaimed. "I didn't know you could buy that at the head shop!"
"Well, you're not legally supposed to, I think, but I have some friends who know the owner. I found him downstairs and talked to him for a while. He was totally cool and said he could hook me up, so he pulled me into this back room where he had a ton of plants and the whole hydroponics setup. It was kick-ass!"
"Damn. Just make sure you stash that good."
Steve pumped the gas while Ollie jostled around in the cab, hands thrusting into the front of his pants. Steve couldn't help but smirk. Finally, Ollie leapt out of the passenger side and stood in front of Steve, hands to his side, hunched over with an odd look.
"Can you tell?" He asked.
"Can I tell what? That you're carrying a pound of weed in your shorts? Hell yes! You're not that hung!"
Ollie seemed disappointed and stepped behind the back of the truck, thrusting and shifting around again, trying to get everything to fit. He eventually stopped, walked over to the outside bathroom and went in, emerging a few minutes later and getting back into the cab. Steve finished pumping the gas and they sped off toward the point of entry.