Hello- F Scott Fitzgerald here reporting once again for Martin Olson's BENCHPRESS. This post is dedicated to the wonderful CN lines that are scattered across northern Minnesota and always come bearing classic gifts; except one time. With anything, there are always exceptions and "one times"; when things just don't work out and everything seems slanted against you. Well, this one time took place while I was innocently hiking in CN territory, enjoying nature and taking "railfan shots" whenever da trains came (come to think of it, there was also that big bag full of paint, and the virgin bridge I was painting, but nevermind these things!). These lines are great for benching because of the scenic surroundings and the classic shit that comes down from the northwest coast (Vancouver, Seattle, etc.) by way of Winnipeg. Lots of WCB shit, lots of ETC shit, and quite a bit of Tars, which everyone likes to see on dem lines.. know what I mean? This story is gonna be long before I know it, so here are some pertinent, none-incriminating (I hope!) details... I rode my bike into the spot and parked a few miles away- a safe practice when dealing with rural areas. I was around this area, hiking, painting, etc for about three or four hours when I decided to pack my poems and hit the road. So I bike back, load my car, and notice a woman that has pulled up kinda by me, but think nothing of it. White SUV, woman, that's about it! So I drive off and head to the liquor store, where I was gonna grab some brews before the Vikings-also known as the best worst team in the NFL-played. Halfway to the liquor spot, I notice the SUV behind me again, and I think, "Hmm..." but didn't really suspect anything. Before the liquor spot, I turn down some back roads just because I had this weird, paranoid hunch the person was following me at this point, so I make a couple turns and the person does the same thing!!! I get into the lot, park, and just sit in the car.. I see the person in the white SUV across the parking lot get out of her ride, grab a cart, and begin to walk in a nearby grocery store. I sit, I wait, I watch her like a stalker foaming from the mouth, and right before she goes in the store, she looks back at my car! I'm thinking, "Wierd!" at this point.. but not scary weird--I actually just thought this woman wanted to hook up or something.. like she just really wanted to ask me out or hit it. Believe it or not, similar things HAVE happened before.
Fuck it- I go into the liquor store and get some beer, come back out, and think- well, now is my chance to get away. So I begin driving and a few minutes later, way back in the rear view mirror, I see this damn vehicle again... so I floor it, not wanting to have any part in it- I squeak through a few yellow lights and the vehicle rides through the red, like nothing happened. At this point, its kinda fucked up-so I called my homie and told him I was being followed and I was gonna try and get near his crib, and park my vehicle a few blocks away, and then try to run up inside his place! My main concern was getting the paint and weed out of my vehicle without this person seeing- because without that, I'm a clean man that ain't done a thing!!! So I get closer to his crib and get a call on my phone- its my wife saying the police are calling her and they would like to talk to me! She says someone saw me on railroad property, and they are following me until police can meet us somewhere. That got me shook- but I told her to just tell them I was hiking and that I'm a photographer, and that's all I was doing. I get off the phone with her, and I'm getting close to my friends spot, so I start looking for a parking spot. I turn on a one way and bam! Right there- a parking spot, the only one on the whole block, so I take it, then watch this punk ass SUV drive past me and park at the end of the block. I calmly get out, take out my bag, and slip between some apartments into an alley--and I'm gone!! A few blocks later I'm looking out the window, through the binoculars at the woman- explaining to police that "she lost me" or something along those lines. Ahh- life is sweet.. but be careful people! You never know who is watching. And CN has some beautiful lines- but some punk ass workers, that's for sure. Once again- this is F Scott Fitzgerald, king of the Jazz age, reporting for Martin (the girls call him Martini) Olson's BENCHPRESS. Big ups.