Chapter: The last. Question: How on earth did we get here?
Amanda: There are few things I love more than making new friends. And though I didn’t anticipate that my relatively lackluster spring break plans would afford me the opportunity to do so, they did, and this is how it went down:
After spending a couple of days bopping between Manhattan and Brooklyn, I bought myself a bus ticket to Philadelphia, where I would spend part two of my break catching up with my little sister. So I packed up my things and rolled it all out to the bus stop on 33rd. My ticket told me to be at the stop 15 minutes before the bus was supposed to leave, but of course that didn’t happen, and I got there with four minutes to spare.
The bus was not there. Approximately 10 minutes after our expected departure time, we were informed by a disgruntled driver of a different bus going to a different city that ours was “running late.”
After this announcement, the complaining and/or chitchat began. I’m not the best at starting small talk-type conversations with strangers, but the guy standing in line next to me was a pro. I’m not sure how much longer it took for the bus to arrive, but thanks to our conversation, it felt like no time at all. This dude was really freaking cool.
Our talk continued well into our journey. Before we exited the bus, we exchanged numbers and said we’d hang out again sometime during the week. This easily could’ve turned into a forgotten promise once we parted ways, but I was determined to solidify the budding friendship.
A few days later, we agreed to meet for breakfast at a food truck that sold amazing breakfast sandwiches for only a few bucks, and that we did.
In the end, there’s no telling if I’ll ever see this guy again. The odds are most definitely not in our favor. But I’ll always have the lovely memory of that time I got food with the boy I met waiting in line for a Philly-bound Bolt Bus.
Seanie: Over spring break, I made no new friends, but I spent 40-plus hours in a Subaru with two great old ones. We drove west and then south for about 2,000 miles over the course of two days, crossing eight states and eating at McDonald’s in four of them.
For the majority of the first leg of the journey, I was relegated to the backseat, where I alternated between sleeping, eating Girl Scout cookies, trying to discover the meaning of life and having my detour suggestions shut down by my two companions up front. It wasn’t until after a stop at a bovine-themed family diner off the freeway somewhere in upstate New York that I was allowed to drive for the first of two times.
Both times ended in mild to moderate disaster. During the first, I gleefully spotted a sign for Niagara Falls and went rogue, leading the car off the freeway and onto a detour to the Falls. Examining my actions retrospectively, I think it was a resistance against the Subaru monarchy my two friends had been running up to that point, with me as the court jester wilting in the back. Their howls of protest only energized my mission. The resistance, however, was less dramatic and more annoying than I bargained for — turns out Niagara Falls is not actually anywhere near the first sign for Niagara Falls on the freeway. It took two hours.
Two extremely worthwhile hours, though. The majesty and grandeur of the Falls brought me to tears, and no claims by my trip mates that they were “utterly obscured” or that “you could literally only see three feet” can take that away.
All that should be said of my second driving stint is that it ended in a brutal bout of car sickness on the side of a freeway in rural Oklahoma.
Some notes if you’re going on a road trip: All involved will probably operate at a base level of slight annoyance (with the car, the road, each other) the whole time. Failing to yield to an emergency vehicle gets you an extremely pricey ticket. It is possible to drive 2,000 miles with your tire pressure light on and have nothing bad happen. Some McDonald’s don’t sell McFlurries. You should probably respond to this not with hate, but with a reenactment of the “Dirty Dancing” (1987) lift scene in the restaurant. It’ll make sense when it’s happening. And after spending 40 hours in an enclosed pod with the same people, you’ll start to believe that humans have a greater capacity for delirium and unconditional love than you thought.
Driving for long distances can be scary, hilarious and cathartic. I sometimes tend to think that things inevitably erupt in chaos — that the world is a big and terrifying pot we float around in and hope doesn’t bubble over on our side. But road trips prove that things can go wrong and still end up so right.
Chapter: The last. Question: How on earth did we get here? Answer: Did you really think we’d have one?
Yours come hell or high water,
Lucy & Ethel
