My last fling of the already ended summer was to be a trip to NYC with Mike, Suzie, and Kacey, the last of whom I’d be meeting on the ride up.  I was tired from Suzie’s arrival the night before as we ate cheese in the office chairs around my kitchen table so I was worried about bringing out my A-game for meeting Mike’s friend Kacey.  In advance of this meeting, I asked if there were any triggers I should avoid, despite this, I managed to make a girlfriend, Hitler, Down Syndrome, and misogynist joke with the first 90 minutes of meeting her.  Good job, Terry.

Driving to New York was new to me and a combination of rain and fatigue made it harder still.  I stopped in Newark for gas which required me shepherding a gas attendant that was probably in his prime during the partition of India to the pump, showing him how to operate it, and then physically sliding his attendant car through the card reader so I could pump my own gas, all in one of two states where doing so is illegal.  We then stopped for a snack at McDonalds where a large man asked me for my change.  I gave it to him, it totaling some 72 cents, and he walked away from the parking lot whistling.  Newark, jewel of the Passaic.  [That’s for you, Kyle.  – Ed.]

Otherwise, the ride to New York was uneventful and the conversation for the evening could be summarized thusly.

The parking garage I wished to use was full so I had to resort to on-street parking.  I found a spot beyond a no standing sign but before a no parking sign, and we walked our things in the rain initially to the wrong apartment (sorry Mike, Suzie, and Kacey) and eventually to the right apartment which was on the 3rd floor (sorry Mike, Suzie, and Kacey).  The place would normally be considered cozy for four people but compared to the capsule of a room Mike, Suzie, and I had previously used at the Hotel Pennsylvania, this was an executive suite.  There was a kitchen-like area, a Venus flytrap/couch hybrid sometimes called a futon, and most importantly a floor space that nicely fit the air mattress.  There floor was laminate so every time I moved on the mattress it sounded like Kraftwerk’s version of whalesong.  Next time, I bring an extra sheet.

Why I volunteered to help Kyle move from Florida is beyond me.  Our trip to Penn State still stands out as my worst trip ever.  We left at 7:30 in a GMC Sierra and 27 hours of podcasts for 42 hours of driving.  The trip down was marked by false hope:IMG_0708

I thought this was the furthest south Wawa and shed a tear leaving it, until I saw signs for the next 3.  Boo…

At about 1 AM we encountered an “I-95 South Closed” sign.  Hm…. So we took a detour around

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CAPE FUCKING FEAR!!! I want to become a dentist in this plaza and knock out the light behind “Cape” so I can be the dentist at Fear Plaza.  Later, there was another delay.

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A jack-knifed trailer.  I’ve always been stunned by the jack knifed trailer on an on-ramp.  LIke some how one thinks that throwing the wheel will magically fix your truck once you realize you’re going the wrong way.

I was hell-bent on going to a Waffle House after reading a review in Maxim that they were superior to IHOP.  This died in my chest after Kyle pointed out to me that the car was being cased by four separate people and I spotted two pimps.  Go Carolina!  We switched after 11 hours and in Georgia I noticed a sign where the design was identical to the Brass Ring Cafe in Hopewell/Pennington.

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We arrived in Florida and began Operation:Packupkyleslife.  I wanted to pack-up and return to PA the same day, but biology interfered.  I met Kyle’s cat Dunyazad.  A cat that fits into the category of animals with awesome names that are abbreviated to something retarded, in this case “dunners” or “duny” or something equally dumb.

I had an idea to increase our efficiency on the way back:

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BED SAIL!

Packing was an ordeal with the ultimate goal of “protect the suade couch and queen sized bed”.  I was angry at Kyle for dragging his feet until I realized he was leaving his life behind, frown.  We departed the next day after packing in the rain which only stoked the fires of my determination.

The drive back was awesome in that I got to drive 1100 miles at a maximum speed of 63 MPH, w00t.  Our overnight stop involve Dunderella nearly becoming potty trained.

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We had to pull over about 6 times because something was about to bounce out and kill someone.  I ran out of podcasts around Fredericksburg, Va and was reduced to listening to old episodes of Security Now! and listening to PC security problems from 2005.  Anyway, observations:

Virginia had signs that said “Overheight Vehicle Detector ahead”.  Isn’t that just a bridge?  Virginia also had the best custom plates: “LRIGTAB”, “Uh huh”, “W00K1EE”, “Nerdc4rt” and “FLAMING”.  The last was on a Hummer H3, no idea.  Finally, Virginia had many illuminated signs that said “DUI Crackdown In Effect” with metal signs beneath that said “CRUSH CRIME”.  Best crimefighting initiative name ever.

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Please note that Hell is in comic sans.

Salvation came when we did find the furthest south (on I-95) Wawa.  It was glorious.  Most rest stations had hand blow-dryers.  I much prefer a paper towel but this Wawa had retrofitted a jet engine as a hand dryer.  I was nearly knocked over initially by its force.

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I have more pictures available on my Flickr Feed of this trip.

I’m glad I made the 2200 mile trip alive.  The 800 mile trip to Glen Ellyn will be a cakewalk.  Go 5-Color Worlds!