I have been feeling a little left out of this whole guest column trend, so I figure that it is time to contribute with one of my own. But what to right about? I definitely have some of the same questions about life that everyone else has been asking, but I don't think I can say it any better than what Susan, Kevin, Mirv, Luke, and Sarah have already said. Instead, I think I'm going to revisit the strangest day of my life. Strap in boys and girls...it's story time.
When we were a freshman, Nick and I took one of the most ill-advised roadtrips ever conceived...Fall Break, 1997. Nick was mad about his high school girlfriend Christy. Not normal first love mad...more like write her a letter a day mad. I had less intense feelings about my girlfriend, Sandy. I loved her, but it was already beginning to show signs of being the doomed high school relationship.
At one of our thrice-weekly late night runs to Taco Cabana, Nick broaches the idea of visiting Christy over Fall Break. Not realizing I'm being set up, I ask if he already has
4-15-04 - Sarah's Guest Column
4-14-04 - Luke's Guest Column
4-13-04 - Easter Beer Hunt
4-12-04 - Susan, Kevin, & Michelle
4-11-04 - Alex's Relationship Levels
4-8-04 - Top 5s
4-5-04 - The Astros
Archives
1) Accordian - Madvillain
2) Mad World - Gary Jules
3) Ever Fallen in Love - The Buzzcocks
4) I'm Good Now - Bob Schneider
5) Beautiful Girl - Pete Droge
6) Hey - The Pixies
7) Cry to Me - Solomon Burke
8) The Killing Moon - Echo and the Bunnymen
9) Jellybones - The Unicorns
10) The Good Old Days - The Eels
Eventually, that full proof logic sold me (I've always been up for stupid ideas). Nick and I left campus at 3:00 PM Friday and drove through the night. It wasn't until we were almost there that it dawned on me what I agreed to do. I was faced with three days of watching Nick and his girlfriend cuddle with only the vague promise of sorority sisters to keep me occupied. If I was in a relationship at the the time, that argument would have been PLENTY. Not only was I in a relationship, Sandy's birthday happened to be that same weekend! I'm not a great boyfriend, but I am not the devil. So instead of spending the weekend with Nick in Ohio, I dropped him off and drove another 12 hours to see Sandy in Omaha. I told Nick I'd be back to pick him up Monday night.
This all would have worked out fine, if I didn't get the worst case of the flu that I have ever had. I wonder why...I'm sure driving thirty hours straight with little sleep had nothing to do with it. I called Nick and told them there was no way that I'd make it back in time, but I could be there by Tuesday, probably. Unfortunately, Nick and I had different opinions on class...he liked to attend, I didn't. So Nick was forced to call his parents and have them fly him back to Houston. I was still very sick on Tuesday, and my dad held class in the same esteem that Nick did. So he flew me back to Houston early Monday morning, leaving my truck behind in Omaha.
For Thanksgiving, I flew up to Omaha to celebrate with my family. Well, actually Sandy's family (which is an incredible story for another time). The plan was to drive my truck back to Houston on Sunday so that I could have the use of it for the rest of the semester. Simple enough plan, right? At least that is what I thought.
On Sunday, my drive started out peacefully enough. I made it out of Nebraska and through the entire state of Kansas in record time. This was definitely necessary...I had a paper due on Monday that I hadn't even started yet. In Oklahoma, I began mapping out the paper in my head until I began to notice smoke coming from under the hood of my truck. Now, I know nothing at all about cars except that grey smoke billowing from under the hood is usually a bad sign. I started to pull over to the side of the road when I heard something explode underneath the hood. The grey smoke turned to black, and I knew that I was in some real trouble.
I steered the car to a stop underneath an overpass and debated my next move. This being the days before everyone had a cell phone (can you believe that it was as recent as November 1997?) I was in a little bit of a bind. I had passed a town ten miles before, so I decided to walk in the other direction...ten miles seemed a little long to walk.
After dragging my backpack and monstrous suitcase (I have always been accused of packing like a girl) for a little more than a mile, I notice a car pulling up behind me. My heart drops when I see that it's a sheriff. He gets out of his car, spits some tobacco near his boot, and threatens to arrest me for hitchhiking, an activity that apparently illegal in Oklahoma. Once I explain that my truck broke down and I am just trying to get to a phone, he becomes much friendlier. "Good thing I found you, son," the officer said."The nearest town ain't for 26 miles in the direction you're headin'. Let me give you a ride back into Tonkawa ". Whoops.
The sheriff is kind enough to drive me the 15 miles back to Tonkawa. During the car ride, he tells me to be careful. They don't much like city people around here. "How do you know I'm from the city?" "You ain't wearin' boots." Ahh, I see.
I say my goodbyes to the friendly sheriff at the Tonkawa Motor Inn. I've never been a snob about too many things, but this "Inn" was definitely sketchier than any place that I had ever stayed before. I was desperate, though, so I went in to the front desk. Let me describe this area the best that I can...it was a very small half shack about the size of those gas stations that don't have stores attached. Hanging on the walls were a few items that caught my attention. There was a Confederate flag hanging behind the counter, but that didn't phase me too much...you see those everywhere in the South. What really bother me were two posters: one was a picture of Jane Fonda in combat fatigues with a headline reading "The Anti-Christ", while the other was a picture of the Ku Klux Klan stringing up a black man. If I wasn't white, I'd probably have feared for my life.
After I rang the bell, the proprietor of this little slice of heaven came out to greet me. Picture Ron Jeremy with a military haircut and a camo-vest with no shirt on underneath. This was going to be interesting... I start to explain my situation and ask to use the phone, but he just points to a pay phone across the street. It was about 4:00 PM and I figured that with no other hotels in sight, I was pretty much stuck here for the night. I asked Mr. Jeremy about room availability and he mumbled that it would be $29.99. I had no checkbook and only $6.00 in cash, so I offered up a credit card. He glanced at it like I had spit on it and told me that they didn't take credit cards. I was at a loss for what to do, so I said my goodbyes. As I started out the door I heard a voice behind me exclaim, "Wait!" I turned around to see the guy behind the counter with a shit-eating grin on his face. "My cleaning lady called in sick today. If you change the sheets in a few rooms for me, then I'll let you have the room for the night". I was exhausted, starving, frustrated, and afraid that this may be some Deliverance-trap, but I wearily accepted.
The changing the sheets and the towels in the room actually wasn't that bad. It turned out that I only had to do it a five rooms, so I knocked it out in about a half an hour. It was a good thing that I had access to the clean sheets...the sheets in the room I was assigned to were damp with urine. Those were fun to change. The room was also freezing because it didn't have any heat. Or a television. Or warm water. Other than that, the room was great!
I took a few minutes to use my phone card to call my dad who, predictably, flipped out. His brain started going into overdrive trying to figure out how to get me back to Rice in time for my 9:00 class the next day. He told me he'd work on something and would call me back.
By this point, I was starving. I hadn't had anything to eat since I left Omaha at 6:00AM. I saw a Sonic across the street, so I decided to spend my last $6.00 there. Since I didn't have a car, I just walked straight into the restaurant and ordered from the cute, jailbaitish waitress. While I was waiting for my food, I told her and her equally yound co-worrker a short version of the days events so far. They oohhed and ahhhed in their deep Southern drawls and seemed to be hanging on every word. It was apparent that they didn't see outsiders very often. As they handed me the food, they asked where I was staying in town. I pointed across the street, and thanked them for their kindness.
I went back to the inn and waited for my dad to get back to me. After about an hour of waiting, I heard a knock at my door. When I opened it, I saw one of the Sonic girls standing there holding a case of beer. "Do you wanna party with me and my friends?" she asked. Although I could think of very few things I wanted to do more, I reluctantly told her I couldn't. Why? Well, 1) I was waiting for my dad to get me out of this, 2) I had a girlfriend, and 3) I had a very real of what the inside of the Tonkawa jail might look like.
Eventually, my dad called me back and told me that he was sending a cab from nearby Ponca City to come pick me up so I could catch a late bus and he was wiring me some money to pay for it all. I thanked him profusely, and waited another thirty minutes for the cab to arrive. When it finally did, the cab was already full and the cabbie looked very unhappy. In the car with him were his wife and his three elementary-age grandchildren. It turns out that he drives one of two cabs in a sixty mile radius, and my dad had pulled him out of dinner for this task. The thirty minute drive is filled with the cabbie and his wife arguing and the children peppering me with questions like those Tom Cruise faced from Jonathan Lipnicki in Jerry McGuire.
After what felt like hours, I got the cash to pay for the cab and was left on a street corner in Ponca City. The problem was it was 9:00, it was freezing, next to everything was closed, I still had a paper due the next day, and my bus didn't get in until 11:30. Fortunately, I happened upon a video store that was open until 11:00 with a kind hearted video store clerk. Not only did she let me sit in the corner of her store, she brought me out a lapboard to write on.
All good things must come to an end, and eventually the store closed leaving me in the cold with 2/3 of a handwritten paper. After shivering for about an hour, the bus finally arrived. Granted, trying to write a paper on a five hour bus ride while trying to ignore all of the chattering Spanish voices can not be described as optimum conditions, but I'm nothing if not a trooper. Eventually, I finished my paper and managed to squeeze in a short nap (not something that's easy to do on a Greyhound bus) before we got to Dallas.
My uncle was kind enough to pick me up from a bus station at 5:00AM and drive me over to the airport where I had a ticket waiting for me. My dad picked me up at the airport in Houston at 8:00 AM and drove me back to campus. I didn't have enough time to shower, but I changed my clothes and headed to my 9:00 AM class to turn in my paper. When I got there, I walked up to the teacher and handed her my hand-written paper with a post-it note attached reading "I'll explain later". With that, I walked back to Lovet and slept for the next ten hours.
