HiBAiSHi

Shortly before the end of the school year I convinced three of my friends to fly across the country to visit San Diego for a week, then drive back in a car across the country in order for me to have a car for the summer. When I think about all the failed road trips I had always tried to plan in high school, this was surprisingly easy, especially considering none of us came from the same place. A lot of people have asked me about this later: how I can possibly pick three people I would want to spend a week in a car with? But it turns out that when you’re singing, making jokes, and living in constant fear of a car breaking down… time tends to pass pretty fast.

Ray, my roommate from sophomore year went from home schooling in a heavily Christian home to an all boys’ high school to Duke University, Kilgo Quad, House O, Room 209. He studies math, computer science, and music. He contributed posters of Miles Davis, Snakes on a Plane, and Hot Pretzels to our room. His eyes are always bloodshot and he sports a couple tie-dye shirts.

Eric is a member of the Navy ROTC at our school, an individual I met freshman year in my math class before he dropped out of Engineering. He went to the same high school as another one of our friends, a high school that a random from Torrey Pines transferred to after his sophomore year. Small world, really. Eric seems to try to do things that question his sexuality. He likes making tea, but not drinking it, if you know what I mean.

Jeremy was my roommate from freshman year, an individual who was once a prominent member of the number one Guild Wars guild in the world. I instantly liked him better after I didn’t have to watch him play World of Warcraft 12 hours a day while talking on his microphone. He has a twin brother who goes to Cal Tech. Jeremy overuses words such as “owned” and “epic.” He likes saying “lawl.”

We began on the back of a pick-up truck at 4am; I had actually booked my ticket for the wrong day and optimistically moved my ticket on the afternoon of the actual day, with no charge, and thought I could get on stand-by. I managed to be the second person to land in San Diego and arrived for a week of sunshine and good times. It’s a little strange to be home without going into some kind of soccer playing, burrito eating, high fiving routine, but I was able to enjoy the “normal” attractions by going to the beach and trying to push a river kayak into the water. My friends were really fascinated by Jamba Juice more than anything else, but seemed to enjoy San Diego nonetheless.

Jeremy had a brother who went to Cal Tech that he wanted to visit. We drove off early Friday night with iPods full of hot jams and found the quietest college campus in the country. Nothing but crickets chirping. The most eventful thing that happened that night was when Ray and I were caught urinating outside of their dorms.

The next day, I contacted a nice friend of mine named Peggy whose father was in the business of socks and underwear and we swam in her pool, posed on her statues, and enjoyed her company while she directed us to some adventures in hollyhood. Stay fly. We spent a couple hours walking down the area, waiting in line at Pink’s Hot Dog Stand, and enjoying the combination of beggars and street performers while we marveled at the stars of famous celebrities such as Chuck Norris himself; all the while having randoms from limousines informing us how hot we were and that we really should smoke weed.

I decided that we ought to spend some time in the company of others so we drove across town and arrived at UCLA where I called a few of my old friends and had my friends marvel at the idea of a combination of an ice cream sandwich and a cookie, then playing the ultimate icebreaker game in balderdash. If it wasn’t for that, Ethan and Sophia would have never known that Eric was a teabagging sailor with an affinity for purchasing pink bathrobes. Little did they know that later that night he walked around the Cal Tech campus and tried to flash the quiet little kids, dressed in his bathrobe and a pair of aviators.

We left the next morning towards Las Vegas, broke down when the car overheated for what we thought would be the only time, and wound up going to Hoover Dam on the way so we could make awkward puns and get yelled at by policemen when we wanted to stand on top of trash cans to take pictures. Damn the Dam cops. The night in Vegas was as keen as it always is for many underage gentlemen, and we walked up and down the strip while listening to others suggest that paying $69 for a hooker was way too much.

Continuing our scenic tour of the Southwest, we drove through Zion Park the next day in car filled with an enormous amount of heat, Stepmania on Jeremy’s laptop, and the tune of Young Folks coming out of a recorder that they swiped from my house earlier in the week. Oh yeah, and Jamba Juice. They all loved Jamba Juice. Driving through the Grand Canyon later that afternoon, we braced ourselves as the valve on the front left tire leaked and we had to change to a small replacement tire in the middle of the national park. Oh yeah, and the car overheated again, but this time we had no coolant and were forced to use water temporarily. It wasn’t until we drove 50 miles on a spare that we found a gas station that patched up tires, seeing as we were in the middle of Arizona, and we promptly made up time and drove to Albuquerque.

During the drive the speedometer kept bumping up and down, and the next morning after Eric made us stay in a smoking room in the Motel 76 so he could save $10 (Note: He spent $20 earlier that week on a pink bathrobe he wore once), we found the next morning that the speedometer was permanently fixed at zero and that the check engine light was going to be on permanently as a result. Maybe because we couldn’t figure out our speed, other than timing the mile markers, Ray received a speeding violation driving through small towns in Texas – and was accused of several more violations like being asked if he was smoking weed. The policemen then handed him a really big ticket, because you know, everything is bigger in Texas.

We stayed with my friend Lily that night in Plano, Texas. As soon as we arrived, her father looked at us awkwardly before exclaiming, “beer?” Too bad we had to turn him down. I went to an enormous gym that night so we could enjoy the steam rooms and saunas. Leaving early that morning, we stopped at another Jamba Juice and Ray got Pink Starburst for what seemed like the 10th time. Eric got the same flavor as Ray, of course. Driving to Atlanta the next day to stop at Georgia Tech and stay with Eric’s girlfriend Vanessa, we passed the Mississippi and Eric got so excited that he took a picture of the wrong river (more like a little stream) and was really disappointed that the Mississippi was so lame. I also took a detour and drove through my old home, Birmingham, Alabama and realized I don’t remember much of anything from my childhood hometown.

Eric departed from our journey in Atlanta, after we went to the Georgia Tech gym for more free sauna time, and we drove to Jeremy’s house in Simpsonville, South Carolina. His mom was so nice that he let Ray stay in the master bedroom and bought us all toothbrushes and toothpaste, just in case. We just used our own though. When we left, Jeremy’s mom told us that we were super guys. He was very embarrassed. We stayed at Duke the next night with Tai and his new roommate Mark because summer session had started and we had an excuse to party. I saw some friends that I really didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to… but ended up blacked out in a bathroom for a little bit, then threw up promptly as I started walking home. I woke up later that night thinking I needed to pee, but threw up again midstream. Surprisingly, no one realized that anything even happened.

After that, the trip was over and I dropped Ray home in Delaware and made my way to Richmond, Virginia where I was going to spend the next 12 weeks.