Treasure Hunt with Gigi and Killa Gorilla

The alarm rings at 5:30 am, and the pugs look up at me as if to say, "You must be kidding." Pugs are so the dog for me. They don't leap from the bed before dawn with wild enthusiasm, ready to go for a run. They think, "Fuck you, I need my sleep," and don't move until you pull the blankets off the bed and dump their fat asses on the floor. Yep, those are my boys.

So I get my ass and the asses of the pugs out of bed, take an awakening shower and make some coffee for the road. I arrive at Killa Gorilla's house at 6. It's still dark outside, and we both agree we are thankful that we don't get up this early every damn day. Didn't the heroine of Flashdance get up before dawn? To weld? Thank heavens we are not welders! We head to Krispy Kreme to load up on sugar. A dozen donuts ought to do it. The guy behind the counter looks about 15 and asks us whether we want a free sample. Oh, hell yes. A sample donut has to be the best free sample known to man. I ask Donut Boy if a person can ever get sick of donuts, and he looks at me wearily and sighs, "Definitely."

And we're off...heading for a border town 5 hours south of us where we will dig through piles of used clothing looking for items that KG can use in her clothing design business, as well as things to add to our own wardrobes. You can get all kinds of cool stuff on the border, but it's a hell of an ordeal to get to it. There are these big warehouses of used clothing...and nobody seems to know where the clothes came from. It's a mystery. But they are there in HUGE piles that you climb on and dig through while avoiding crazy men driving backhoes, adding to the piles and stirring them up. The first time KG and I went on this adventure, we stared in awe at a clothing mountain in one of the warehouses.

"Damn. It looks like Goodwill threw up in here," KG observed.

"Yeah...and peed." I said. Another odd feature of the clothing mountains is that they kind of smell like urine. "Who pees?" we always ask, but nobody ever answers.

This scene may not sound like heaven to many of you. But to Killa Gorilla and me it's a treasure hunt, and the treasure is only 30 cents a pound. Since both of us have been low on money (but high on fun, baby!) for most of our lives, it is a great joy to dig through a pile of clothes, knowing that you can have ANYTHING that you find. KG makes amazingly beautiful dresses from vintage slips and scarves, so we look for those, but it's the thrill of possibility that keeps us coming back. We excitedly discuss this on the way to the border. We talk about how being able to have anything in the piles that strikes our fancy makes us feel rich. This would probably make actual rich people laugh at us, but some of you know what I'm talking about. Sometimes, when your not so rich, little things can make you feel like you are. Almost.

"A full tank of gas and a fridge full of food!" I say.

"A value pack of toilet paper!" she says. "Ooh...and having all of the bills paid before you start getting the angry notices."

"Word, sista!" I agree. "Especially if you have some money left over afterwards." That hasn't happened to either of us in years...but we're working on it. Gotta have dreams.

By the time we reach the border, we're hopped up on sugar and caffeine and ready to dig! We bring some of the donuts in to one of the women who works at our favorite warehouse. She's been nice to KG, letting her look at scarves before they become part of the clothing mountain. We don't speak Spanish, and all of the people who work there do, so we do a lot of signing, pointing at things and smiling stupidly. We agree that we need to learn at least a little Spanish. KG and I have even been to Mexico before, and the only Spanish we managed to learn was to be able to say, "Your penis is like a Cheeto." It sounds so much funnier in Spanish. But it makes you few friends among the Spanish-speaking menz. Go figure. We talk about saving our money and going to a school we've heard of way down in Mexico where we can be submerged in the language for a couple of weeks. It sounds like a great adventure...one worthy of Gorgeous and Sassy for sure. We are adventure-seeking girls, after all.

We climb on the mountains and dig and dig for hours. I am not looking for anything in particular, but I'll know a treasure when I see it. I find a furry shirt much like my favorite black furry shirt, for which Furry Shirt Day was named. This one is pink, long sleeved, and not quite as belly revealing. More demure, but still sensuously furry. I snag it. KG finds a loud-colored vintage mini-dress. Awesome. I find a short plaid skirt. "Ooh...I think I need this!" I say, and I hold it up for KG to see.

"You certainly do, you naughty, naughty schoolgirl," she says. We laugh our asses off. I look for a white blouse to add to my costume, and we laugh about the fact that if you add "naughty" to nearly any profession, fun in the bedroom can ensue! Does the word "naughty" mean "fun in the sack?" Seems to.

"Naughty Librarian is a case in point," I say. "As soon as I tell a guy I'm a librarian his eyes glaze over. I must exude 'naughty'."

"You do, but 'librarian' just seems naughty, let's face it. It's like 'nurse'. Who doesn't want to play doctor with the 'naughty nurse'?" asks KG.

"How about a 'naughty accountant'?" I ask.

"Sure, that could work. 'Mr. Smith, I'm going to do your books like nobody's ever done them before.... ' " She looks meaningfully over her glasses. We laugh uproariously.

"Hmm...some jobs aren't as good. Like 'naughty proctologist'." she observes. Yes, that is a game that neither of us wants to play. It may actually be too naughty for us. Wow, that's some kind of naughty!

I remark that the animal professions don't really lend themselves to naughty, either.
"'Naughty veterinarian' is just weird."

"But 'naughty lion tamer' works..." KG notes. True. We decide that most professions can be naughty, except for the animal professions unless they require a whip and a sequined costume.

We dig more and find other cool things. A letterman's jacket with the name "Moe" stitched on it. A t-shirt that says, "Cheerleader Champions, 1986." A bowling shirt. More vintage dresses. We are exhausted, but finding it nearly impossible to stop digging. Besides, we know that when we leave we will notice that we have dirt under our nails and smell like pee, and we'll start to itch and worry that we have scabies. Happens every time. But finally we are too tired to go on...and we still have the 5 hour drive home ahead of us. We take our piles to weigh and pay for them. Remarkably, my huge bundle of treasure costs me $3.50. Awesome. We decide to celebrate by going to IHOP where we can drink more coffee and order the Rooty Tooty Fresh and Fruity.

On the way home we listen to music, and talk about our past loves and whether things would have worked out differently if we'd paid attention to our intuition/friends' advice/astrology. We tend to get all philosophical on the way home when our sugar high is wearing off. But we make it back to Austin right after midnight and unload our hauls. It's been another successful run for the border for two crazy, yet gorgeous and sassy treasure hunters. Here's to adventure-seeking girls!

- Gigi 01.27.04