First of all texans aren't really hicks. Despite the fact that the first two Texans I encountered as I crossed the border were a married couple pulling up at the gas station on their horses drinking beer. They then proceeded to get 700 dollars worth of money orders. The wife had a tattoo in cursive that said "fancy lady". Oh the sincerity with which they did it! Beat that urban posers! After that we headed into home for the night - Amarillo. Amarillo is some kind of gem. Streets make no sense, and everyone Ragnar and I talked to kept asking us to repeat ourselves - they didn't understand what WE were saying! We actually had to ask for a plastic bag four times. We cozied up to a great bar called the golden light, which had dogs and older ladies singing "i'm a bitch, i'm a mother, i'm a saint, i'm a lover, i'm nothing in between you know i wouldn't have it any other way" and then proclaiming, "this is the best song ever!". I'm pretty sure that song came out in like 92. We stayed at yet another roadside motel run by Indians who thought Ragnar was some kind of criminal. Or maybe they just hate Americans. And then, we had the greatest experience of a lifetime - the amarillo motor 66 speedway car racing. Fucked up beat up cars racing around a track in the middle of nowhere sponsored by Budweiser. Parents were giving their babies strawberry crush to drink and ladies were chewing on huge turkey legs. Someone asked Ragnar if he was Randy! Points for fitting in! Not a person over 21 who wasn't married! I felt embarrassed by my H&M tote bag and sweater. Oh well, next time i'm wearing a crop top, getting a fake tan, and wearing jeans. I love you Amarillo. Also, I got a rattlesnake tail to hang on the rearview mirror - pictures of that coming up.
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