
Reg from Internal Mail was very happy to be going to Montreal to cash in his horde of privilege tokens. His goal was to get some Michigan sausage from some place in Montreal called St.Catharines street. You can get Michigan sausage for a blue privilege token; Reg had five blue privilege tokens. We were only just crossing the Rouge River when Trixie suggested to Reg that she would give him the Michigan sausage experience for one of his green privilege tokens. He could keep his blue privilege tokens for the Montreal sausage industry. I was driving, so I did not see what was happening, but Reg seemed to enjoy his Michigan sausage. If you are a people watcher, you know the sounds people make when they are eating something tasty. You know even better if the people being watched do not know they are being watched, and I was driving, listening, and sort of watching (kinda like the glimpses you get through a window at night). I was driving.

Passing through Kingston, the topic of conversation turned to Spicy Rice. It was not quite what I thought 'Spicy Rice' would normally mean *, but, if you think about it, Spicy Rice is an apt description as Michigan sausage. What does Spicy Rice mean to you? To Reg in internal Mail, Spicy Rice is worth a blue privilege token (just like Michigan sausage) but not quite road food. Trixie offered Reg some Spicy Rice, much as she had offered him some Michigan sausage, but Reg demurred. You can make do with Michigan Sausage as road food, but Spicy Rice was table food, something to be got with a roof over your head. I guess it was like comparing a blow job from an alley crack whore to an evening with some tart with teeth, sheets, and corsets that match her boots. Sometimes you only have time for the crack whore, like the Mayor does at lunch on golfing Wednesdays. Such is metaphor.
Everyone had a different recipe for Spicy Rice. We all agreed that cucumbers had no part, no contribution ... which lead to a round of jokes about progressives, as most any mention of cucumbers really brings to mind the inappropriate uses that progressives find for things, ideas, and vegetables. I think Reg from Internal Mail was thinking a lot about Spicy Rice, and Trixie's offer of Spicy Rice in the car, in the backseat of the Community Shuttle, for a green privilege token was wearing down his sales resistance. We pulled over for fuel, a change of drivers, and everyone's mind got off the pleasures of Montreal, at least for a little while.
We were working on a radio play about some loser named what's his name. Sonjia had his divorce proceedings and is using them to put together a script. It is all very Hollywood in the 1950's, this using someones divorce papers to churn out a radio play. Of course, we all started joking about cucumbers. The radio play is to go out on the Mitchieville shortwave radio feed on Valentines Day. What's his name is not a very interesting guy, unless you find 21st century crypto-queers interesting, but humiliating him is a very popular thing to do on short wave radio. It is a fad, these pop sensations come and go, much as penicillin vexes clap. After laughing long and hard, we started talking about normal stuff again, as a tonic, much as a stalker, after an evening of watching through bathroom windows, dresses up as a lawyer and goes to work in the morning. What could be more normal than Spicy Rice?
Everyone has a different recipe for Spicy Rice. I like my own version best, even if what Sonjia DeSade whispered into my ears was pretty tempting. As for Reg and Trixie, they started to play the Bunny Rabbit and Teddy Bear game. It was getting dark, and I had to navigate us through the outskirts of Montreal.

Such are road trips. You talk about things. You make plans. You gather resources. Even as the world sinks into unsustainable government debt, take the time to travel with friends and family.
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