Caligula and Caesar's American Adventure

Johnny Cash and a Bit of Hash (Cae)

I swear Cali nearly cried when she saw my little present, and I’m a bit scared to admit that I kinda like Johnny Cash. I kinda really like him but I would never hear the end of it. Don’t tell Cali. But back to my story: I kind of can’t believe what just happened. So while Cali’s in the shower – aka, the portaloos by the diner – I’m out at the little shop in the middle of nowhere, and guess what I see? The bloke from the diner, the one I cock-blocked or whatever, and I have to admit he’s kinda hot. Not my kind, but certainly Cali’s: he’s ripped and he has thick hair and he looks kinda foreigny. Anyway, so I walk up to him and say hi, and he just stares.

Him: “Are you the wotsit girl?”

Me: “Uh, yeah, sorry.”

Him: “Are you from England? Huh, cool.”

Me: “Yeah … listen, I know this is gonna sound insane, but my friend – Cali, she was with me before – she kinda thought you were cute.”

Him: “Oh, uh, thanks, I guess.”

Me: “I’m sorry if I, uh, ruined anything? Cali says I can be a bit too much sometimes. I don’t always think. But we’re in the camper by the diner till tomorrow morning, if you wanna swing by sometime.”

Him: “Uh, ok. Thanks. Bye.”

Me: “Cheerio.”

Right, so I don’t know what came over to me. I never talk to hot strangers, especially not for Cali, but I did. Anyway, then I go to the shop just in case they have some wotsits. They don’t though and it is getting dark so I’m walking back to the camper with a multipack of bottles water and there’s this guy smoking pot in a car, so I bum a joint off him. I would never have done that at home. Anyway, so I smoke with him for, like, half an hour and he gives me a lift back to the van. His name’s … I forgot, something beginning with P. Or was it R? I don’t know. Whatever it was, in exchange for one of the water bottles, my phone number and twenty dollars (I don’t even know if that was a good deal, I think it was), he gives me a stash. I can hear Johnny Cash blaring from the camper so I burst in expecting to see her rocking out on the bed.

You could call it that. Her legs are in the air and the cute waiter guy is … between them. The next few minutes go something like this:

Me: “Jesus Christ! What’s this?!”

Cali: “God, Cae, give us a minute”

I go outside until I hear something I’d rather not and a couple of minutes later, the waiter guy hurries out with his trousers round his thighs. Inside, Cali’s wiping lipstick off her chin. I swear to God, she has no dignity.

Me: “Did you just fuck the waiter?”

Cali: “Yeah, didn’t you see.” She’s giggling like the maniac she is.

Me: “Yeah, I fucking saw.”

Cali: “Well, thanks for getting him to come over.” She winks at me. “You’re the best.”

Me: “My present. For cock-blocking.”

Cali: “Oh, that cock is anything but blocked.”

She is so gross, and it’s so weird that she just had sex to Johnny Cash. Once I’ve check the sheets are clean (they are, mostly), we sit on her bed and light up. She’s never had a spliff before, which I can’t believe. I teach her how to inhale and we lie back.

Cali: “Thanks, Cae.”

Me: “No problem. I owed you.”

Cali: “Now I owe you one. Where’d you get this?”

Me: “Some guy near the shop.”

Cali: “Is it safe?”

Me: “Well, it’s my second and I’m still standing.”

Then Cali laughs hysterically for ten minutes because we’re lying down. If it puts her in this mood, maybe I should hook her up more often. I don't bother telling her that I'm sure it's 90% oregano.