Asheville, Part Deux.

When I woke up on Sunday morning, I was alone in a different bed than I had crashed in. I vaguely remembered the b.h. snorting and wheezing and sweating like a whore in church and me waking up and peeling myself away from him around four in the morning and slipping into the other bed (luckily we had our own room). Now I had woken up because there was a knock at our door. It was D, telling us it was time to head out if we were going to the rally. I briefly thought about skipping it.
"What do you think?" I asked the b.h. "I don't care either way. You're the one who's sick."
"Yeah, I do feel like shit, but if we don't even try and everybody gets in and they wind up shooting hoops with Obama, we're gonna be really upset."

I agreed. We separated from the band, got lost for a minute, got back on track, found parking fairly quickly, walked a few blocks in one direction, and then got turned around to walk much further in the other direction in order to get in line. Asheville is very, very hilly. We hadn't eaten anything. Nor had I had anything to drink. Nothing. We walked for what seemed like days, not seeing a drug store or a restaurant or a gas station anywhere. When we finally got to the high school, the line was already really long.
We spotted the band easily (they were the ones dressed in long sleeves and black pants, of course) and slipped into line with them. It was hot. HOT. The sun was brutal, and the line snaked back and forth across a nearly treeless parking lot. The line snaked back and forth and each time we passed a tiny spot of shade we all huddled, basking in it's glory for as long as we could. Also, the whole of this particular campus was non smoking. Not a problem for myself or the b.h., but there were definitely band members that considered abandoning ship. Overall people were very polite and everybody was in a pretty good mood, despite the obvious lack of planning (there were a thousand t-shirts and buttons for sale out there, and no beverages anywhere, and when we finally got into the actual stadium three hours later, there were seven - SEVEN - portable bathrooms once you got past security. No kidding. And you couldn't leave once you went through security, either. Luckily there was a concession stand. I got a water and a g@torade and a snick3rs bar. I have never eaten a more satisfying candy bar in my entire life. Oh, the ladies restroom at the concession stand was also out of order. We got through security and stopped briefly on the plastic grass of the football field. It was hot and sticky and gross, so we made out way across the field to a grassy knoll in the shade of some trees and sat down to wait.
The speech itself was, to the surprise of no one, fantastic. I didn't know what to expect as far as how I might respond emotionally, but I did not lose my shit Beatlemania style at any point, nor did anyone else that I saw. I didn't see signs of any obvious Stepford voters, but rather a whole lot of thoughtful, hopeful people who were just happy to be there, watching history in the making and looking forward to having President who we can all respect.
After the rally the b.h. and I ate in a restaurant in downtown Asheville and hit the road. We got home just around dark and watched a couple of episodes of my new (old)favorite show Slings and Arrows before getting to bed quite early.