I was fortunate enough to accompany my three man friends on their road trip up north last week.
First destination: Sacramento. Long story short, I was to be staying there though after a series of unfortunate events I drove my best friend’s car (which was then dubbed ‘Get Away Car’) to Berkeley on Tuesday night where my two ailing friends and I were taken in by possibly the kindest person in the world. In & Out at eleven p.m. never tasted better and almost getting to use a space blanket (tin foil) made my night.
Second destination: Berkeley. Man friends left the following morning. Their destination was Oregon and I was reluctant to see them go. The rest of my week in Berkeley was awesome though, and included the following: Julie, bookstores, thrift stores, beer pong, writing letters, writing anything, Dave Eggers, nature jogs, freezing yet perfect weather, Forrest Gump look-a-like, stolen newspapers, hardwood floors, gummy bears, etc.
Third destination: Ride home. The lone friend in Sacramento makes the pilgrimage to Berkeley to pick me up and take me home. He arrives with the awkward Sacramento kid we stayed with and whom I was never really introduced to and a baby duck. I sit in the back seat with the baby duck. The normally seven hour drive takes us almost nine because we stop at Target, several McDonald’s, a couple gas stations, and a lake. I get home at one a.m. smelling pretty badly, feeling blood clotty from sitting for so long, and annoyed with ducks.
Oh, California Woodstock!
[P.S. I realize I change tenses midway through this post. Forgive that.]