All This Plus an Amish Buggy

Here's the thing about roadtrips: they're only fun if you have good directions. Proper directions. Accurate directions. Without them, the potential for developing a psychotic break increases. So does brownie intake. But I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself. I should probably start at the beginning:

Friday

1:00 PM

We—that's me, Becky, Hot Rob, and Amy—load up Becky's car. We make sure the brownies I've spent the morning baking are within easy reach. We stock up on CDs. We are off.


2:45 PM

We have a ten minute discussion about the word poop.


3:30 PM

We pass into Mansfield, New York.

"Mansfield," Becky says. "Where they grow a year's supply of men in a field. You can go in and pick your own. We can stop and get you a man, Jess."

"It's kind of late in the season," I say. "They're probably picked over by now. The only ones left are short or fat."

"Or moldy," Amy says from the backseat.

We decide to stop for lunch in Mansfield. Between the exit and the Taco Bell, some sort of roadtrip hysteria hits. We can't stop laughing or shrieking. This has a lot to do with the Butters Car Wash of Mansfield, New York. We can't stop saying butter! We are losing our minds. We eat tacos.


5:30 PM

I am seized by a shooting pain in my abdomen. Because of the shooting pain, I am unable to be a good navigator. We have to turn around after we miss a giant blinking sign alerting us to a detour for the road we're supposed to be on.

We pass a church with a scary (and giant) stained glass Jesus. We pass a thousand roadside motels with names like White Deer Inn or King's Motel. We pass the Little League Hall of Fame.

"I have a glove in there," Rob says.


7:20 PM

We are on a stretch of road that has an Adult World or an Adult Depot or a Misty's Fine Gentleman's Club every mile.

"There aren't ever any windows," Amy says. "Gross."


8:00 PM

We are supposed to be getting off of Route 83 at exit 16A. We see exit 16A.

"I think we're close," I announce. "There's only two more steps in the directions. The hotel should be right around here."

The hotel is, in fact, not right around there.


8:15 PM

"It would've been helpful if they gave us rough time frames," Becky says. "I don't know how long we should keep looking for this hotel."

She says this because we are starting to leave civilization. We are heading into rural Pennsylvania. There are farms and signs alerting us to be on the lookout for Amish buggies.


8:30 PM

"Okay," I announce. "We are not supposed to be here. There won't be a Red Roof Inn in the middle of nowhere."


8:35 PM

There is a blinking red light up ahead. When we get closer, we see it is an Amish buggy.

"That's it!" I say. "We're lost!"

"We're passing a BUGGY!" Becky yells. "A BUGGY! These directions are wrong!"

We get fired up. We get angry. We call my father and ask him to mapquest us out of Amish country and into Maryland. He tells us we're still about an hour away. He gives us new directions.


8:55 PM

We drive through more countryside. Then more. And more. We finally start to see civilization. We make up a chant about the person who gave us the directions. It rhymes with her name and involves the word poo.


9:00 PM

We get the direction-giver, who is also the bride, on the phone. We tell her what happened.

"Oh," she says. "We meant 16A in Maryland, not Pennsylvania."

Becky grips the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turn red, then white. "That would've been HELPFUL TO KNOW!" she yells.


9:30 PM

We finally get to the hotel. After getting lost and adding several hours to our travel time, we are all expecting a certain something from our hotel. Cleanliness, for one. Indoor entrances, for another. We get neither. Our toilet is stained. The side is caked with dirt. The room smells funny.

Amy makes Rob pick up each bed and look underneath.

"I watched a bad segment on 20/20," she says. "I don't want anything strange living under our bed."


9:40 PM

Our high school friend Missy, who's also coming into Maryland for the wedding, arrives with her boyfriend. She left three hours after we did and has arrived ten minutes after us. She gets a nice second-floor room with a fridge and microwave. We have none of those things. We do have that strange stain on our toilet, though.

Becky announces that she wants to kill someone. We all have a lie-down on our beds to compose ourselves. Then we decide we're all going out and getting drunk.


10:30 PM

We make Rob go find a map of the area. We make him ask when the bars close in Maryland. The news is not good. They close at 1:30.


11:00 PM

We drive around. We try to find a restaurant, a pub, an anything. We find a sushi bar. We find several closed steak restaurants. Then we find a giant sign that features a dancing shark. We are pleased. We know this is exactly where we need to be.


11:15 PM

There is vodka. A lot of vodka.

Missy asks if we want shots. We so want shots. We have them. Amy, who once had a tragic incident involving the cinnamon-flavored Schnapps Hot Damn!, tries not to gag as our spiky-haired bartender pours out Becky's shot of Goldschlager.

We are sitting in one of three bars that is located in the dancing shark establishment. In the next room they are playing music. There are flashing lights. There is hubbub and commotion. I don't feel quite up for hubbub and commotion. But Becky and Amy are unable to resist when they hear the first few licks of Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer." They dash into the next room.


11:20 PM

The DJ plays Def Leppard. I turn to Missy. "They're never coming back now," I say.


11:25 PM

I get a text message from Becky. It says BOYS. COME NOW.


11:30 PM

Amy and Becky dash back into the quiet side of the bar to tell us that the other side of the bar is way better. "We've made friends!" they say. "There's a cute boy in a hat!" they say.


11:35 PM

We dance. We dance and dance and dance. We make asses of ourselves. We giggle and scream and become a spectacle. We are just so happy we are no longer lost and no longer in a car.



The boy in the hat is over in the corner with his friends. Because I have had much to drink in a short period of time, I revert back to my Queen of Bold status. I smile at him. I motion for him to come to me.

He comes to me.

12:00 AM

It turns out the cute boy in the hat is less cute and more smooshed of face.

"I still like his hat," Becky says.

He tells me about his friends, his school, his job. I forget it all as soon as I hear it. I also can no longer see right.



12:45 AM

A boy named Ian comes up to me. He has been trying to hit on another girl for the last hour.

"Hi," Ian says.

"Hi," I say.

"How are you?" he says.

"Great," I say.

"Where are you from?" he asks.

"Why don't you go after your girlfriend?" I ask. I point to the girl he's been hitting on. She's now hitting on a hulking man who looks very much not interested in her.

"Because I like you better," he says.

"Go try her again," I say. "Be assertive. Don't take no for an answer. She'll give in."

He listens to me. We go through that same cycle at least three more times.

Smooshed-face hat boy comes back when we're up dancing on the stage. We talk a little more. I spill part of my drink on myself. He leaves.


1:30 AM

It is last call. Ian's friend buys me a beer, and I drink it even though I hate beer.

Ian comes back to me. "She doesn't want me," he says. He frowns.

"Better luck next time," I say.

Amy and Rob are making out in the corner.




1:45 AM

We leave. We laugh and sing all the way home. After we get back to the hotel, I find an empty roll of toilet paper on the floor by a pair of our boots. I can't control myself. I laugh hysterically. I take pictures of it.

I need to go to bed.


2:15 AM

We go to bed.


4:00 AM

I wake up knowing I'm in bed with someone. I want to put my arm around that someone, because there is a two-second period where I think it's some boy I love or like a lot, but then I remember it's just Becky.

I consider putting my arm around her anyway. After all, who doesn't like to cuddle?


Saturday

8:45 AM

I get up to drink a gallon of water. The faucet hisses loudly. I hear a voice from the next bed over. "Are you making bacon?" Rob asks.

We spend the next half an hour talking about how much we want bacon. We also talk about the spooky things that happened in the middle of the night: the radio suddenly hissing static and not stopping until Amy unplugged it, the door opening by itself (or by a sleepwalker?) and staying that way until Rob realized it was open and got up to close it.


9:45 AM

We get up, put on clothes, stumble out into daylight. We drive around until we find a diner. I get pancakes and a side of bacon. In Maryland "a side of bacon" equals eight slices. I decide I love Maryland. I eat each slice. I could have eaten more.


11:00 AM

We decide to ditch our original plan (stay in bed all day until it was necessary to get up and get dressed for Julie's wedding party) in favor of plan #2 (shower and go to Baltimore).


2:30 PM

We get to Baltimore. We walk around the Inner Harbor. We tour a giant Navy relic. We stand on its deck and watch the Flutag. We laugh when we go to lower decks and Rob can't stand up straight.






4:00 PM

We are back in the parking ramp. We realize we needed to pay on the lower level before trying to leave. We make Rob walk down the seven flights we just walked up so he can pay for our parking.


4:45 PM

We get back to the hotel to pick up Missy and her boyfriend. They are going to follow us to the party.

5:10 PM

We are lost again. We've followed the direction to the T, but it turns out we were supposed to take 83S instead of 83N. For the second time in twenty-four hours, our directions are wrong. People get cranky. There is some swearing. We are really hungry.

5:50 PM

We finally arrive at the party. There are tents in the backyard. We look at each other. We are going to freeze, we just know it.

6:00 PM-party's end

We drink wine to stay warm. We eat our weight in nachos and quiche and chocolate fondue. I sample every cracker topping, rich with mascerated olives or marinated peppers, and go back for seconds. We eat enchiladas and beans. We smash hollowed-out eggs filled with confetti over the newlyweds' heads.

We toast them. We drink champagne.

We talk to old high school friends. We marvel that one of them has a child—a little blond haired, blue-eyed child. We make friends with the groom's brother/cousin/some sort of relative from Texas. We watch game one of the World Series. We eat cake. We realize we are really tired. We decide to head back to the hotel, but only after one more picture:

And then Sunday, of course, was the day of driving back to New York. And I think it's important to point out that we didn't get lost even once.

Now that I'm back from mini-vacation #1, I am counting the days to mini-vacation #2: Minnesota, Minnesota, oh, Minnesota.