basically it gets pretty fucking boring, and especially so when it is gray and drizzling the entire way, and your windshield wipers don't even work. and since you're an idiot and forgot you were driving north where there's actually seasons, you wore a fucking t-shirt and so you want to spend as little time outside of the heated car as possible. which also means that, yes folks, i ignored the countless pleas from pedro, and for the first time ever on the fl. to va. drive, did not even stop at the oh so campy south of the border.
i stopped for gas and that was about it. i didn't end up leaving sarasota until about four in the afternoon yesterday. the first part of the drive was decent -- the drizzling had yet to start, i was still excited about the idea of a long drive, and the landscape entertained my thoughts for a while. then the sun set. i have the worst night vision ever, and it started to drizzle outside making it even harder to see since my wipers don't work, yet i trudged on until about midnight at which point i could safely drive no more.
i stayed in the seediest hotel ever, but that is probably to be expected from a hotel that only costs $28 a night. i was not tired to the point where i could fall asleep, i was just tired in the sense that i did not want to have to squint to see through the one area of my windshield that actually gets wiped, and realize that i was about to hit yet another car. so i called it a night, checked into the carolina lodge, entered my wood-panled motel room, turned on the tv and lied down in bed.
it was a night not spent by me writing a road journal, reading books, or doing some even semi-beatish thing. no, it was spent by me watching wwf on mtv and masturbating to the sight of these grotesque embodiements of a hulking masculinity, slamming each other around and yelling ridicolous grrr statements at each other. i wasn't so much getting off at the sight of stone cold or the rock or some other lame-o, but rather to the recollection of how much i used to love wwf when i was a little kid, and i thought that even back then i most have been gay to have been so into these overpuffed males gropping each other. or maybe not gay, but definitly looking at these versions of males in a they're so cool, that's what i want to be like kind of way.
and little sidenote- i don't know how many other people used to be wwf fans when they were kids, but ric flair is back, and he still says whooo! after every six or seven words. i kind of would like to go around and talk to people i don't know like at the mall or something, and talk like ric flair, and to just say whoo! after every sentance. for some reason, i think it would be lots of fun.
after my little wwf jackoff session, i became thoughougly disinterested in anything that was on, and at that point fell asleep.
i woke up at 11, hit the road, and motherfuck, yes it was still drizzling, and so it was still an annoying drive.
today's drive was, however, a lot more fun than yesterday's. to keep myself awake, i played the gossip game with myself, telling myself all of the new college gossip that i could think of. that was fun for a while, and it's being mentioned here for two reasons. 1.) that i was pretty goddamm bored, and starting to develop cabin fever. and 2.) okay, maybe nikki and bonnie were right - the game made me think of how much i wish i would've tried to talk to marky mark on saturday nite. what would have been the fucking harm of being rejected one more time - i was leaving the next day -- why was i such a pussy?
besides this game, i played sing-along with every song on the radio that i knew even just a couple of lines from. i also played the license plate game. and of course, the always entertaining, stare into the other cars around me and talk about what type of life they lead game.
so at 4:11, i finally saw the welcome to virginia sign, and i was so excited that i decided that i was not stopping again until i reached alexandria, and was home sweet home. keep in my mind that virginia's a big state, and takes about three and a half hours to drive through on 95.
the drive through virginia was so exciting even though it looks just like the carolinas, it just felt so much better to be within these constructed boundries called virginia. i was nearing home and feeling so so good to be in va -- that and i found the 10,000 maniacs unplugged tape which always makes me feel so wonderful. (and fuck you if you're smuggly laughing, i like my adult contemporary -- don't say shit about 10,000 maniacs, they're fucking awesome.)
so i'm singing along with natalie, i'm fifty miles from my house and i have to pee so fucking bad. i say no, hold it charlie, fucking hold it, remember we are not stopping till we get home. twenty miles later i decide i'm going to be a little creative. hey, jim carrey peed in a bottle while driving in dumb and dumber, and i think i've even heard real people talk about it -- so i assumed that it was not such a bad idea. oh, how wrong i was. so first of all, i am trying to undo my pants while driving my bobo car that has the worst alignment ever. so while doing this, i hear a honk, and i realize i'm about to run someone off the road. problem #2 involved with trying to pee while driving: after i took down my pants, i got hard, and so i had to be like oh no no no, please cut that out, i so need to pee. problem #3: once i get soft, i get fucking pee-shy for some reason and cannot make myself pee into this empty gatorade bottle, even though i am about to fucking wet myself. i literally have to force myself to pee, grunting little squirts of pee out of me into this empty gatorade bottle. okay, then i start to pee and i don't know what the hell happened. i don't know if the bottle was not at a vertical enough angle, or what. rembember it is dark, drizzling, my windshield wipers don't work, and i am still technically driving -- so my mind was not solely on watching the pee bottle. but soon, i smell that fucking urine smell and i'm like oh fuck shit and then i can feel it on the seat. so, i stop peeing, cap this stupid gatorade bottle, pull my pants up, and put the map book between the wet seat and my ass.
i get home, and thank fucking god no one is home to smell my urine smell, and so i quickly take a shower, and spray smelly shit on the car seat. and then i chide myself for thinking that this was possible just because i saw jim carrey do it in a movie. chiding myself, i too too clearly hear and see jack nicholson in the shining, saying "its okay, he saw it on the television" (which ps, is far a creepier line than the oft-quoted ones: "here's johnny" and "red rum")
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