Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again: Part One
Title: Stuck Inside Of Mobile... (Part One)
Pairing: Bob Dylan/OC's
Rating: Mature
Author: Me, Jazmyn (X
Disclaimer: I own everything but Bob Dylan and the song title belongs to Bob as well <3
Author's Note: This story is based of the song with same title of this story.
Fall, 1966
I’ve been here before, I remember this dreaded place.
I turn to my current boyfriend and give him a look, “Why are we in this town?”
He rolls his eyes, “Just passing through Bob, don’t throw a fit.”
I cross my arms and mutter, “Better just be passing through…”
I hear him sigh in annoyance, “Come on why don’t we stop for a bit. I’ll go in and get us some food and you go take a bathroom break.”
“Whatever.” I shrug and he pulls the car over into a Food Mart.
I get out of his ’65 blue Ford Mustang and still with my arms crossed, walk behind Chris into the store and look for a bathroom while he walks down the food aisles.
After taking a quick leak I go to wash my hands, but stop to look at myself in the dirty mirror in front of me.
“Here I am, back in Mobile…The one place I never wanted to enter again…” I mumble to myself.
Last time I was in this town I was only passing through, but my car broke down and I ended up being stuck.
Hence why I’d written the song about it earlier this year, while on LSD right in this very town.
Lots of terrible things happened then, and once I woke up, in a completely different town altogether, I never wanted to go back to Mobile again.
Thankful to be away from the insane people and eerie darkness.
And now here I am again…
Fuck my life.
It was great to be on a break from touring, and the press had bought my lie about the motorcycle accident.
Now I was free to go crazy on LSD with Chris and have a good break. But ever since that argument me and him got in, after he found me smoking meth again(The one drug he hates), things haven’t been so fun.
Not to mention, I had to let a guy fuck me in order to get the meth.
Oh well I guess, Chris will get over it.
I rub the light brown bags under my clear blue eyes and run my fingers through my curly golden brown hair.
I hadn’t cut it once this year and it was a big afro type due by now.
I put my Ray Ban Wayfarers back on and opened the bathroom door and headed for the entrance.
Once outside I look around for the car for a second.
“Where the hell is the car?” I mutter.
Oh shit, someone stole Chris’s car.
I run back into the store, “Chris! Chris your car is gone!” But I can’t even find him.
I turn to the cashier who’s looking at me strangely, and the look he’s giving is one of pity.
“Where the hell…Did you see anything?” I ask him.
“That guy you were with…” He starts, “Took off in that nice mustang as soon as you entered the bathroom.” He finishes.
Then it dawns on me.
I just stand there, my eyes on the spot where the Mustang was parked.
That fucking asshole!
He fucking left me here!
My mouth falls open.
“You got cash on you, kid? Money?” The cashier's voice breaks my stunned thoughts.
“No shit, I’m Bob Dylan.” I say and glance at him to see that he’s finally realized.
“Shit, you are!” He’s grinning and I’m rolling my eyes.
“Thanks man.” I mutter and then leave the store.
I begin to walk down the street, looking for a pay phone.
Here we go again.
To Be Continued…