I was pissed off, so I convinced Red to stay and find a couple of chicks at the carnival. I was unable to find the hottie from the beer garden but found a couple of suitable replacements.
My plan to hook up with local girls was going fine until I stumbled off the Tilt-a-Wheel with Daisy May and found the po po waiting. They offered me one more chance to leave town, and I took it.
Red suggested that we road trip to Columbia to visit a friend of his at Mizzou. That sounded like a good idea to me because I was drunk, horny, and really admired college girls.
For some reason he let me drive the fifty or so miles to campus. I shouldn’t have been driving, but I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have when I was younger. This was just a typical night.
On the highway Red would yell at me for getting too close to the car in front of me. I would back off, but he would inevitably have to warn me again.
I needed to take a piss, so I turned off the highway at the next exit ramp. This part is still a little hazy. Mostly because I think I fell asleep at the wheel. Red’s screaming must have woke me up, but there wasn’t enough time to avoid the guard rail. My beautiful, blue, four-door, luxury sedan slammed into metal. Red’s head slammed into glass.
We sat there for a few seconds when Red asked, “What the fuck were you doing?”
“I’m not sure. I think I fell asleep.”
We got out to inspect the damage. The Escort was pretty banged up on the right side, but was drivable.
“I’ll take it from here,” he said.
“Alright,” I replied.
The following morning I woke up in the passenger seat. Red had the driver’s seat reclined and was sound asleep. I looked outside to a vacant parking lot wondering where we were. More importantly I was wondering why the window was rolled down on my side of the car because it was freezing outside. I tried to roll it up. Nothing.
“What in the hell did you do to my car?” I asked in a voice loud enough to wake him.
“What’s that?”
“What did you do to my car?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. The glass in the window is missing. What did you do?”
I posed the same question to him several more times.
Red’s face turned the same color as his hair. He made a fist, cocked his left arm into the air (he’s a lefty), and dared me to ask the question again.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked.
He dropped his arm, and proceeded to recap the events from the previous night. Things slowly started coming back. When I asked why we weren’t at his friend’s house, he told me he couldn’t find it.
We switched sides, and I drove back home.
I told my parents that I had swerved to miss hitting a deer. They called the insurance company, and a couple of weeks later, Ol’ Blue was as good as new – ready for the next adventure.
Doing alright. A little jiving on a Saturday night.
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