Road Trip Recap, Part One

Well, it took 4 days but I have finally made it to sunny South Florida and after a few days of unpacking and getting settled I'm finally ready to relate my crazy road trip story to everyone. I hope you're sitting down for this because what I'm about to describe to you is one of the craziest weekends of my life.

It all started innocently enough as I made my way Thursday night to south Jersey to visit my friend Mike. We wanted to go out in style so it was either a bank roll busting trip to AC or a 'bank roll' busting trip to the infamous strip club the Go Go Rama. I chose the Rama for obvious reasons.

As I drove down the Garden State Parkway towards the Rama I suddenly became very quesy. I had that same kind of nervous pit in your stomach that you get when you're talking to a girl that you like for the first time. I wasn't sure if it was because I was nervous about moving to Florida or nervous about touching boobies. Probably a combination of both.

Eventually, Mike got out of work and we hit up the Rama. After swapping business proposals, including my idea for a drive thru strip club, we headed into the lounge area for lap dances. Everything was going great until I left and the bouncer noticed that my pants were falling down. Turns out that I had lost my top bottom just before leaving New York but hadn't realized it. The bouncer did though and thought that I was up to no good. Before I could even pull my pants up I heard a voice yell out, "hey you, come here, this isn't that kind of place!"

I tried to make a run for it but half way to the door I slipped on some lube and fell straight back onto a used condom. The bouncers took this opportunity to pick me up and throw me out of the club Al Bundy style, making sure to hit me into as many inanimate objects as they could on the way out. Once we were outside they hurled me onto the pavement and kicked a field goal in my ribcage for good measure. At this point I'm thinking that I may have broken a rib but I was still so grossed out from having landed on the used condom that I don't even feel any pain.

Mike comes out of the club 2 minutes later and has the nerve to say, "sorry dude, I saw those guys pummeling you, but I couldn't leave my girl. I still had two minutes left and she was doing this thing with her hips. Oh my god, it was unbelievable. I guess you had to be there. Dude, are you okay, I think you're bleeding internally."

I shook off my injuries because after all, I'm the inter-gender, hardcore champion of the world, and made my way along with Mike and his buddy Moe to a diner. Because hey, what else are you going to do in Jersey? After clogging our arteries we headed back to Mike's place for the night. The next morning I was on my way again, finally stopping in Ashland, Virginia after 6 hours of driving. I was so tired that I went to sleep at 6 pm without a care in the world. When I awoke the next morning that was hardly the case.

That's because when I went to my car to load it up I said to myself, "that's funny but I don't remember parking on a hill. And yet my car is slanted. Holy shit, I've got a flat tire!" And indeed I did. Which was just great. Here I am, by myself, in the middle of nowheresville, Virginia with a flat tire. Luckily, I belong to AAA. Within the hour, a mechanic was on the job, replacing my tire with the donut I had in my trunk. I used that to drive to the nearest mechanic's shop in hopes that they could replace it with a new tire. I even left the old tire behind in the hotel parking lot because I was that sure that I could get a new one.

The shop that I went to was called Wild Willies Wild Repair Shop. I was expecting this to be the kind of place where the guy who works there is also the mayor, sheriff, and judge. Instead, what I got was the assistant manager, Gus, a tall, wirey guy with a handlebar mustache. His coveralls had more grease stains on them than his mouth had teeth. He looked like he could have easily passed for a serial killer in any old Hitchcock movie. Worse yet he smelt like he hadn't taken a bath since his baptism.

Appearance aside, this guy was my meal ticket out of Ashland. With trepidation in my voice I walked up to Gus as he was picking his nose and asked, "I have a flat tire would it be possible to get it replaced today?"

With a thick southern drawl, Gus replied, "well I could have me a loke c at your thar but it ain't gonna git fix it today. You'all gonna have to wat til morrow. I very busey today."

As soon as the words came out his mouth a sickening feeling came over me. It felt like somebody had taken a sledgehammer and hit me in the gut with it. This was the worst possible thing that could have happened to me. I couldn't stay there another night. Where would I have stayed? What would I have done with all my stuff?

With that in mind I took off and headed South towards Richmond. About 5 miles down the road I was back in civilization at a shopping mall that had a Goodyear tire. For $100 they could replace the tire. Finally, some good news! Followed by some bad news. They couldn't do anything without the rim which I had stupidly left behind in the hotel parking lot.

So, I made my way back to the Hampton Inn I had stayed at and hoped that it was still where I had left it. And it was. But so was Gus. He and his co-worker, Bubba, a 6"2', 300 pound freak of nature were pulling up next to it in their Ford pick up truck. I quickly ran over to them and tried to reason with them that it was really mine. They would have none of it though, citing the old finders keepers losers weepers rule that was actually a state law in these parts.

Knowing that I was outnumbered I suggested that since this was the South we settle things like men; with an arm wrestling contest. Gus looked me up and down and figuring that he could take me said okay. We made our way into the hotel lobby and sat down at a table. He then stood up and Bubba sat down in his place. I looked up at Gus and asked what the hell was going on. He said that Bubba could take his place since I challenged both of them and never said anything about him having to do it. Damn it, outsmarted again by someone who didn't even go to high school.

Feeling lucky, I said fuck it and sat down across from Bubba. We locked hands and for a few seconds I actually had the upper hand. Eventually though his massive vice like forearms began to exert their force and I could sense that the end was near. Knowing that I would be stuck in Virginia for days if I didn't get that rim back I acted fast, spitting in Bubba's face and then kicking him in the shin. The sudden pain and pink eye distracted him just enough that I was able to slam his hand down.

As soon as Bubba's hand had hit the table Gus was shouting vehemently that I had cheated. I looked at him, shrugged my shoulders, and said, "hey you never said that I couldn't cheat." And with that I grabbed back the rim and took off towards Goodyear.



***Check back tomorrow for the exciting conclusion to my crazy road trip.***