Me and Beard are masters of the road trip from The Cackalacks to anywhere on the East Coast, since we have to drive there like basically every three weeks for a wedding. Now I will explain it to you in great, excruciating detail.
Pre-Road Trip: Pack the essentials. Pillow and fuzzy blanket (for passenger napping) beef jerky and banana chips (for driver energy) Beard also purchased an SD card to music on and put in the stereo (for passenger safety/driver pacification)
DEPARTURE:
5:00am: Hit the road. Yay! So exciting! Only 12 hours 40 minutes to go I’m so pumped!
5:10am: Beard is very bad at making conversation at 5am. He is very boring.
5:23am: Zzz.
9:30am: Awaken at a Starbucks. Switch. My turn at the wheel.
9:48am: I’ve been driving for like an hour right?
10:05am: I require constant stimulation in the form of conversation while driving. Beard complains because he wants to take a nap. Unacceptable, but I comply.
10:20am: Beard is not napping. He is reading Reddit articles. Since he isn’t paying attention, I feel as if this is an appropriate time to break out the Spotify Road Trip Playlist, "Road Tripp Jamz".
10:30am: After the third Katy Perry track, Beard decides to compromise and speak words to me. I am the winner of being the most annoying.
11:15am: Feel kindred with cars that have been driving by me for a while. Hi again, Blue Van!
12:00pm: Hunger. Beef Jerky and Banana Chips are not cutting it anymore. Begin the great Yelp hunt for food that is not terrible. (Pro Road Tripper Rule: Do not eat fast food. Though convenient, you will regret it in two hours when you are sharing a car with someone who is digesting a double cheeseburger.)
12:45pm: Lunch break. Put jeans on over yoga pants to that you don’t look like a scrub. Drink wine with meal because I do not have to drive for like 4 more hours!
1:12pm: Back in the car.
Here, Beard demonstrates proper driving posture.
1:13pm: Zzz. Because of lunch-wine.
Note: This seems like I am a terrible Road Trip Companion, but it’s my gift to Beard to not talk to him while he is driving. I am so noble.
2:52pm: Awaken on foggy mountain. Anxiously backseat drive until Beard commands that you go back to napping.
3:00pm: Zzz.
4:30pm: Narrowly escape murder/toilet alligator after peeing in sketchiest gas station bathroom of all time.
5:15pm: Get wicked excited that we are almost there. We are not.
6:10pm: Dude glares at me for NO REASON after speeding past me. Dwell on this for 10-15 minutes, because self esteem issues. Determine that because he had Massachusetts license plate, it is just his nature. It is definitely not because you didn’t let him merge earlier.
6:40pm: This truck is following me. It’s definitely following me. It keeps changing lanes when I change lanes. What if this guy murders me?!
6:46pm: False alarm, guys. Truck is not following me.
7:30: ARRIVAL. YES NO MORE DRIVING HOORAY. ALSO SAFE TO DRINK MORE WINE NOW.
Friday – Sunday: Rage.
Summary of the weekend.
RETURN JOURNEY:
5:00am: Depart. Lame. Driving is LAME.
5:05am: Zzz.
9:27am: Awake at not-Starbucks. Get gross gas station coffee. The way back is the worst.
10:00am: Have lengthy discussion about billboards. Who models for those strip club billboards? Are they real strippers, or models? Do they live in that town? Do people know them because they are that billboard girl? Life’s questions.
10:10am: As usual, conversation has shifted to how Vermont is the greatest state because they don’t allow billboards. Whatever. Thought we were driving a car, not riding our high horse. (That joke needs work. I apologize.)
11:02am: See Deer on side of road. It is taking a nap, Beard says. Sweet Dreams, Deer!
11:24am: Conglomerative hangover from three days of raging sets in. It is rough. Spirits are low.
11:56pm: Enjoy hearty lunch of a ginger ale. Be ~40 years younger than everyone else in restaurant.
12:36pm: Sleep it off.
4:40pm: Awaken. Billboard's content has turned from Strip Clubs to Jesus Quotes, so we’re getting close to the Cackalacks.
4:55pm: So booooored. Begin discussion about future book you are imaginary writing. Conversation delves deep into Parallel Universes; road trips are weird, guys.
6:57pm: Amp up the trip with a race against the clock. Google says 63 minutes but I think I can do it in 60!
7:24pm: Former comradery with other cars on the road gone. Road rage sets in. Everyone is in my way.
7:57pm: Made it! Revel in irrelevant victory. I AM THE WINNER.
7:58pm: Be greeted at the door by unenthusiastic dog, who welcomes us home by walking directly to his food bowl and gives me a top-notch, guilt-inducing stare directly into my soul until I feed him.
Pictured: Starving to Death. Wasting away. Cue the Sarah McLaughlin music.
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