A Simple Florida Trip Pt. 1

The trip back to Florida was much like any other that I had done before. The long 25 hour drive was for the most part, expected to be uneventful. Save for the voyeuristic tendencies of stealing a glimpse of another life by looking into other cars driving by on the freeway. Despite my protests towards wanting to see women with far more testosterone than I could ever produce the women were not swayed to visiting one of the many “We Bare All” trucker stops and the trip floated continuously on. Perhaps my argument would have been more persuasive had I not been riding with both my ex girlfriend and my new girlfriend Oriana. They found little humor in my pawing at the window and persuasive effort of mentioning the complimentary breakfast buffet. 1

“Ladies! What more attractive idea is there than bringing a hot plate of scrambled eggs and hash browns to a table with a half naked dancing lady? Ignore the venereal diseases transferred to your mouth after she uses one of your sausages in her act, it’s all good. Think of the stories.”2

Instead of a combination of tales and sores to present to our friends in Minnesota we stopped at the nearest combination Subway and S.A; a place where both the occupants and the car itself could fill up. My attempts at humor, normally met with a hail of laughter, seemingly fell upon deaf ears. I wandered over to purchase the most delicious food for traveling - cinnamon pop tarts and Mt. Dew. - and realized why the girls were not laughing and had, as a matter of fact been quite annoyed with me. Clutched in their hands was a case of Tampax which they brought up to the counter, and it was at this point that I knew that my life would soon be over. 3

There is an agreement amongst men, that we would much rather have steaks stapled to our body and be tossed into a lion pit, than be enclosed in a small space with women on their periods. Seeing as how there was no close zoo, lions being scarce in the northern parts of Georgia, and I wasn’t able to afford several steaks, I said a quick prayer, crossed myself, and re-entered the tomb of the van. The executioners slowly walked back to the car, each swinging a bag of low carb subs and diet sodas. 4

“So did you still want to go to the strip club Andrew?”5

“No, I’ll pass; let’s watch White Oleander or When Harry Met Sally instead.” 6

This was meant as a supplication, perhaps I could appease them and they would spare me, but a line had been crossed. Even today my mind will not allow me to forget the conversation that happen next. 7

“Oh my god, I have such a heavy flow today.”8

And there it was. Much like when Lot’s wife looked back to the city of Sodom, what had been done could not be taken back. I was stuck, forever with those words echoing in my mind. The vagina had now forever lost its mystical, magical and beautiful properties that every young man has in mind. Brain damage was the only solution and I proceeded to slam my forehead against the soft plastic side of the van. 9

In between the rhythmic pounding of my skull on the van, the spice girls bumping from the speakers, and the constant chatter from the women, they had enough time to yell back at me “Oh will you calm down, it’s a natural thing, and nothing natural is bad.”10

Words of wisdom from my then-time-girlfriend. Go ahead and ignore tornadoes, tsunamis, earthquakes and any and-all-diseases. Natural is “good”. I increase the beating of my head, stopping only when it started to hurt.11