lost in bozeman while visiting nazis

spagetti, a couple cookies, a couple pbr's

Fragments that I'm not sure how they fit together, but I know it was all interlaced as a story.

In a car, my mom is driving, I think Gentry is with us. In Bozeman, trying to get to the mall. Roads are all torn up so my mom takes a different route through town. Once we're at the mall, we do our shopping, but when it's time to go and I start towards the car, my mom objects that "that's not the way" and insists that we go the very long way around, like we came, instead of what I know is a much quicker way out the nearest door. I'm very anxious to get out of the mall and get the show on the road but I try to be patient and agree to go the long way around.

In another story line, I'm visiting some guy at his parents' house. He's a younger skinhead but very large. [probably the fat blonde kid that wanted to jump me at smiths in october, but mixed with the fat drug addict that comes into the restaurant.] They're a wierd hill-billy-ish family, mom is rather old and worn and downtrodden, hair pulled back, dark dress with little flowers all over it. Po' country folk. After I'm there, I realize that this guy has swazi tattoos on either temple and on his forehead. But the swazis are squared (rather than upturned) and the bottom joins with a line all the way across. I don't think that his parents realize that their son is fronting as a nazi, and I'm not certain they would understand or really care. We're sitting around talking (seems like I've got someone there with me at this point), and I start to realize he has wierd tattoos all over, running like veins all over his body, black outline filled with colors that fade one to another. I start a narrative in my head, that I'm convinced this kid isn't really a nazi, that he's always been cool to me, that he's just confused. I'm not certain if maybe I'm rehearsing this to talk to him, or to his parents, or what. I'm not certain that he won't freak out and try to kill me if I say what I really think.