A Simple Florida Trip Pt. 2

Two hours later my girlfriend slipped to the back of the van with me, tired from viewing the lines on the road pass by. We cuddle close together on the floor, covered in a blanket. Although her original intention was to sleep, she gave me a sly grin and whispered into my ear.1

“Hey, you know we can fool around back hear and Taya can’t stop us. She wouldn’t even be able to tell.”2

Heavy Flow3

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that, it’d be really rude.”4

I closed my eyes fully intending to sleep before I had to drive the later early shift of 2-6 am. The sounds of freeway and sounds of the stereo blended together into a mixture of orchestral white noise. As I drifted the beat became faster, the harpsichords started to drown out the peaceful violins, increasing in volume, the bass sounded increasing in tempo. The conductor waved his hands in the air, struggling to keep each instrument in check. He threw down his baton and screamed5

“Taya! What in the hell are you doing? You’re going to get us killed!”6

“I really have to pee.”7

The diet soda had flowed through her body faster than she had expected. The urgency of her situation was evident with the speed of the van; now speeding along at over 20 miles above the speed limit. 8

Death is a woman, on her period, with a mission. 9

Closing my eyes, I once again crossed myself and sent out a small prayer, this trip being the culmination of me leading a religious life. I awaited the screeching clawing metal upon metal sound of two cars colliding at high velocity. The van made an unhealthy squeal and vibrated rapidly as Taya slammed on the brakes. A spew of four letter words explitives erupted out of her mouth. We had come to a complete stop on the freeway. Looking around I could see an endless line of cars in front of us, and a gathering pile behind us.10

10 minutes later cops cars streamed by on the side of the road and we intrepid explorers turned off the engine and stepped out of the van, onto the freeway. All around us we could see other people in their vehicles doing the same. And we waited. 11

15 minutes later an ambulance sped past us. A few street people started talking to others who had stepped out of their vehicles. I waved to a group of children packed into the back of a car. They were watching Sponge Bob and gave me a half hearted wave back, not wanting to be interrupted. They had no deadlines, no schedules besides maybe a play date with a friend. Waiting another 15 minutes was no problem, and as such the time passed easily for them. Taya, however, did have a problem with losing a half an hour. She danced back and forth on the freeway, the shock of stopped traffic having faded from her memory she returned to thinking about her painfully swollen bladder. The calming idea presented by my girlfriend and I of the traffic ending was not enough to quell her when another 15 minutes had passed. She lay on her back inside the van; her feet kicked out the side door, slowly opening and closing her legs trying in desperation to distract her mind from her bladder. A helicopter flew by.12

“This is horrible.” She said13

“I know. I hope the person is ok.”14

“He damned well better be dead! I had better see a dead body being rolled past our car, because not going to the bathroom is Hell!”15

Desperate times call for desperate measures and that time had come for Taya. After fruitlessly searching the embankment and side road for a safe place away from prying freeway eyes, she turned back to the van. Reiterating that she was going to explode Taya picked up what was to be her last hope: My Mt. Dew bottle. Pouring out the light yellow contents onto the street gave me a picture of what was about to take place. My stomach cringed as both women headed back into the van.16

“Oh no… no no no. What if you like (I winced) miss? I don’t want to drive around with that smell wafting around for the next 15 hours.”17

My argument fell upon deaf ears. They stepped inside the van. My girlfriend held up a large blue blanket, shielding the grotesque display of human need. My eyes jutted back and forth on the road, there had to be another option. Maybe a flatbed was delivering a port-a-potty that we could use. Maybe there was a motor home nearby with friendly occupants. Maybe a friendly passing eagle will swoop down and carry Taya off to a gas station, anything was better than this! With nothing in sight I paced back and forth on the tough blacktop street, pondering stuffing tissue paper up my nose for the next half day when traffic started to move again.18