My coming home, to the place where I belong.
November 1, 2009.
My plan was to hit the road running at noon, but delays and unexpected last minute 'arrangements' and changes had to be made.
My original plans were to pack the car with what was most important to me. My clothes, my plasma, my Xbox 360 and other toys, including all my DVDs and games. Somewhere along the line, I forgot that I drive a 1995 Toyota Paseo.
My suitcase alone took up the trunk. The rest of my clothes and computer took up the back.
I realized this the day I was supposed to move, as up until then, all my catering equipment was in my car. And that is a LOT more than you might think.
SO.. here I am.. it's all ready to go. Except NOW? Not with me. I am immediately forced to make a decision about the plasma. I know I have to give it up. I owe Berryman some cash, he could take it. I decide against it and strike a deal with Cora. She gets the plasma free and clear, in return she ships my stuff back gradually and pays for it.
I'm set to walk out of the shithole vampire dungeon I idiotically decided to dwell in for less than 3 short months because I thought the sticky wench I lived with who couldn't find a job as president of MGM or GM of the Yankees, might FIND SOMETHING HER SPEED.
And as she realized I was leaving, I think with 3 or 4 cigarettes in her wrinkled 26 year old yap, faked vacuuming so she wouldn't have to say goodbye to the guy who gave her 2K to drink my face off in a 10x12 room for 87 days.
I'm two hours behind schedule (there was no real schedule) but I felt I wanted to stop at Cora's and shower, clean myself up and say goodbye to my fluffy little buddy, Bruschi. I remember the last thing there was calling him, he jumped up on my leg, I scratched him behind the ears, took a really hard look and told him to go see momma.
Cora and I had a short goodbye. It was very hard. It was accepting failure. It was accepting the end. I cried on the way out. I don't cry often. Very subtle tears, but they were there nonetheless.
I hit the road at 6:30 EST. This means to me it was 3:30PM. Showered, fresh and ready. I immediately made great time right out of the gate, despite driving a car that SHAKES at 70 MPH.
I got to Kingman, Arizona while the sun was still up, but barely. Hit the gas station for a couple hot dogs (yeah Mike I will never learn not to eat gas station swill), 2 waters and an energy drink. I have NEVER HAD A COFFEE in my life. I really don't know why, I'm not against it, I just never wanna sit in a 33 car line waiting at Dunks.
Hit route 40 East. According to my directions Colby sent me, this was going to be over 800 miles. I hit it hard. At the 200 mile mark, Craig called me and we talked for awhile. He helped me for awhile.. we hung up then my girl texted me.
And before anyone says ANYTHING? I was driving on a major highway three lanes across almost ALONE.
She got me through the next FOUR hours of driving at 65-70 MPH. She stayed up until 2AM having to work in the morning to get me to New Mexico. There was never a time where I said, 'Baby just another ten minutes..' she just did it.
And she did too. I was WIDE AWAKE when I hit that New Mexico border. And I cruised through Alberquerque (yeah I dont give a shit how its spelled), where I thought I might stop, but kept flying.. The first stop I made was in a rest area somewhere near the Texas border. I pulled in and took a two hour nap at a gas station/cafe/souvenir store..
Hit the road again and headed into Texas. My car was being fucky. The mountains in AZ and NM were not kind to my engine. And it let me know it. It was overheating but the constant driving was keeping me safe. In the morning, I got solid advice from Tony and Todd and righted the ship.
Got through Amarillo, TX at lunch. Was having a very intense back and forth with her that carried me another 4 hours and into Oklahoma.
I thought VEGAS was a clusterfuck of construction. Yeah well I didn't even SEE a sign welcoming me to Oklahoma. The first 872346287356287356 miles were on ripped up rough shitty roadwork highway terrain that I was CONVINCED I had a flat tire and pulled off the highway. I pulled into a gas station, checked my tires, they were fine, looked at a Berryman lookalike and said, "Hey. Tell me something. Is this entire highway gonna make me feel like I have a FLAT?" He looked at me and nodded. Fuck that place.
I continue my journey through OK, and decide that I am going to get a room in OK. My best buddy pal I left behind in Vegas is Brian Berryman. To pay homage to him, I decide his HOMETOWN is the perfect place to stop. Enough time, enough miles. Good nights sleep. He tells me his hometown is at exit 311. (Yeah I know, I should have sensed major problems right there and then.)
I keep driving up route 40.. no exit 311. I call Brian. 'Hey assbag.. you forget where you live??' He asks me where I am. I tell him exit 317 in Route 40. He says, 'I told you to take Route 44 in OK City!' I told him, 'No ass. You told me Route 40 would take me to MISSOURI!'
To be continued.
My plan was to hit the road running at noon, but delays and unexpected last minute 'arrangements' and changes had to be made.
My original plans were to pack the car with what was most important to me. My clothes, my plasma, my Xbox 360 and other toys, including all my DVDs and games. Somewhere along the line, I forgot that I drive a 1995 Toyota Paseo.
My suitcase alone took up the trunk. The rest of my clothes and computer took up the back.
I realized this the day I was supposed to move, as up until then, all my catering equipment was in my car. And that is a LOT more than you might think.
SO.. here I am.. it's all ready to go. Except NOW? Not with me. I am immediately forced to make a decision about the plasma. I know I have to give it up. I owe Berryman some cash, he could take it. I decide against it and strike a deal with Cora. She gets the plasma free and clear, in return she ships my stuff back gradually and pays for it.
I'm set to walk out of the shithole vampire dungeon I idiotically decided to dwell in for less than 3 short months because I thought the sticky wench I lived with who couldn't find a job as president of MGM or GM of the Yankees, might FIND SOMETHING HER SPEED.
And as she realized I was leaving, I think with 3 or 4 cigarettes in her wrinkled 26 year old yap, faked vacuuming so she wouldn't have to say goodbye to the guy who gave her 2K to drink my face off in a 10x12 room for 87 days.
I'm two hours behind schedule (there was no real schedule) but I felt I wanted to stop at Cora's and shower, clean myself up and say goodbye to my fluffy little buddy, Bruschi. I remember the last thing there was calling him, he jumped up on my leg, I scratched him behind the ears, took a really hard look and told him to go see momma.
Cora and I had a short goodbye. It was very hard. It was accepting failure. It was accepting the end. I cried on the way out. I don't cry often. Very subtle tears, but they were there nonetheless.
I hit the road at 6:30 EST. This means to me it was 3:30PM. Showered, fresh and ready. I immediately made great time right out of the gate, despite driving a car that SHAKES at 70 MPH.
I got to Kingman, Arizona while the sun was still up, but barely. Hit the gas station for a couple hot dogs (yeah Mike I will never learn not to eat gas station swill), 2 waters and an energy drink. I have NEVER HAD A COFFEE in my life. I really don't know why, I'm not against it, I just never wanna sit in a 33 car line waiting at Dunks.
Hit route 40 East. According to my directions Colby sent me, this was going to be over 800 miles. I hit it hard. At the 200 mile mark, Craig called me and we talked for awhile. He helped me for awhile.. we hung up then my girl texted me.
And before anyone says ANYTHING? I was driving on a major highway three lanes across almost ALONE.
She got me through the next FOUR hours of driving at 65-70 MPH. She stayed up until 2AM having to work in the morning to get me to New Mexico. There was never a time where I said, 'Baby just another ten minutes..' she just did it.
And she did too. I was WIDE AWAKE when I hit that New Mexico border. And I cruised through Alberquerque (yeah I dont give a shit how its spelled), where I thought I might stop, but kept flying.. The first stop I made was in a rest area somewhere near the Texas border. I pulled in and took a two hour nap at a gas station/cafe/souvenir store..
Hit the road again and headed into Texas. My car was being fucky. The mountains in AZ and NM were not kind to my engine. And it let me know it. It was overheating but the constant driving was keeping me safe. In the morning, I got solid advice from Tony and Todd and righted the ship.
Got through Amarillo, TX at lunch. Was having a very intense back and forth with her that carried me another 4 hours and into Oklahoma.
I thought VEGAS was a clusterfuck of construction. Yeah well I didn't even SEE a sign welcoming me to Oklahoma. The first 872346287356287356 miles were on ripped up rough shitty roadwork highway terrain that I was CONVINCED I had a flat tire and pulled off the highway. I pulled into a gas station, checked my tires, they were fine, looked at a Berryman lookalike and said, "Hey. Tell me something. Is this entire highway gonna make me feel like I have a FLAT?" He looked at me and nodded. Fuck that place.
I continue my journey through OK, and decide that I am going to get a room in OK. My best buddy pal I left behind in Vegas is Brian Berryman. To pay homage to him, I decide his HOMETOWN is the perfect place to stop. Enough time, enough miles. Good nights sleep. He tells me his hometown is at exit 311. (Yeah I know, I should have sensed major problems right there and then.)
I keep driving up route 40.. no exit 311. I call Brian. 'Hey assbag.. you forget where you live??' He asks me where I am. I tell him exit 317 in Route 40. He says, 'I told you to take Route 44 in OK City!' I told him, 'No ass. You told me Route 40 would take me to MISSOURI!'
To be continued.