Adrienne Mendonez learns the true meaning behind the old Steven Wright line, "Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time."
“That can’t be right, try it again,” my best friend, Katy, demanded. She glanced worriedly at the attendant of a gas station just outside of Austin, Texas.
“What’s goin’ on?” I inquired casually. My hands were full of bags of beef jerky, candy, and red bulls. Although I was addressing Katy, the attendant responded.
“There’s no money left on this card.” Katy and I exchanged confused looks. Our once-sacred gas card, which was supposed to get us across the country, had run dry approximately 1500 miles short of our destination. It was a grim 4th day of our cross-America road trip adventure. With sadness in her eyes, she pulled out her check card and charged it to that. I paid for my array of unnecessary treats, and we walked out together towards her Nissan Altima which had been waiting patiently next to the pump for us.
“How is that possible? Have we really used all that gas already?” she exclaimed incredulously. “I guess so? Halfway through our trip? I guess there was a slight glitch in our itinerary planning.” My last sentence was obviously sarcastic, considering the fact that our basic plan was to “wing it.” We both got in the car and stared at each other, silently asking what our next move should be. Being by each others’ side 24 hours a day since we left New Jersey had caused us to inevitably develop some ESP-like qualities.
Four days prior, she had picked me up at my apartment in New Jersey, and we headed south on I-95 to begin our adventure. Our first stop was Hurlburt Field, FL to visit our best friend on an Air Force base. It was the destination that had urged us to change our entire original plan. When it dawned on us that if we went with the Southern Route we could visit our long-lost-pseudo-sister Airene, the Northern Route idea was immediately abandoned. So south on I-95 we went, high on adrenaline and our trusty red bulls as we talked from sunset to sunrise about anything that crossed our minds. Katy curiously asked questions about our final destination, Los Angeles. She was starting school there shortly after we were due to arrive – hence the reason for the trip. I volunteered to come along for the ride because I had lived there briefly a year prior and wanted to see old friends.
After our joyful reunion in Florida, we managed to hit New Orleans, Houston and San Antonio, before we ran into the minor gas-problem glitch on our way out of Austin. The beauty of the whole thing was that inside, Katy and I both found the situation absolutely hilarious. Our zombie-like attitudes (fueled only by energy drinks) failed to be enough to allow us to express it emotionally at the moment. But we were both aware that inside… we couldn’t wait to laugh about the situation.
She raised her eyebrow at me and I knew the mutual decision was made. I started the car and headed onward to our final destination – no stopping now. So there I was: cruise control set to 65 mph, heading west on the I-10 directly to the City of Angels, instead of criss-crossing around the left side of America as we had originally hoped. We were disappointed to miss things like the Petrified Forest of Arizona, the Grand Canyon, and the Hoover Dam, obviously - but it was all part of the adventure. All that mattered was that we had good company and free spirits. What kind of journey would it be if everything went as planned? Besides, I had old friends anxiously awaiting my arrival; and Katy, a whole new chapter of life to embark upon.
