Friday, August 31, 2012

PHST Day 6

In a few hours there will be just over 1400 miles logged on the wheels of Keith Tronic’s Honda Pilot. This delicate beast of an SUV has been littered and abused, compacted with empty Maverick cups, wrinkled info packets, and a couple hundred riveting nitrogen emissions from each one of our gastric systems packed into these leather seats. More amusing is how we hear Keith’s sphincter whistle going off every 20 minutes or so.

For full effect, download, “Never There” by Cake and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post.

Swamp Thing: In a deep/slurred/semi-intoxicated tone “U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!”

My mind is still on cloud nine as I am currently digesting my secret lover from Heber. You all know who I’m talking about; my darling sweetheart of a pulled pork sandwich who L-words me more than the L-word itself. There’s nothing better than to take that grilled cheese creation into the back of a diner and just pound her away for a good solid ten minutes.

For the record, if you are looking for some of the best dessert known to man, I would suggest the coconut almond chocolate chip gelato served up by the Spin Café. Even better though is to take the acronym of that flavor and see how many sullied comments you can come up with. That frozen treat was divine, and even though I had already packed away the Miss Piggy, I sure did enjoy getting a huge mouthful of that stuff and just ramming it down my throat.

The Rhinestone Cowboy: “DEER! RIGHT THERE! SEE IT? 2500 YARDS AWAY STANDING BEHIND THAT SMALL BUSH EATING THOSE PURPLE BERRIES OFF OF THAT PARTIALLY BURNT QUAKEY BRANCH! DO YOU SEE HIM? RIGHT THERE! HOW ARE YOU MISSING THIS?!”

The Rhinestone Cowboy has a unique talent for spotting rodents three miles in the distance. It’s his gift. We all have our own abilities that we bring to the table. Keith’s is the amount of liquid that his bladder can hold over a 500-mile stretch of highway. And for me it’s the ability to come up with an ethnic pun for getting excited watching last night’s RNC.

I haven’t laughed this hard in a long time; a very long time. Laughs that came from the mushroom flicking, the use of our fashion intellect to decide if the drapes matched the carpet at Wingers, the melodic achievement that came from syncing up Bieber, or seeing if we could inject random words into our dialogue.

Keith Tronic: “Alright, I want you to pull out your laptops right meow, and scrotum the website www….”

The most memorable moment of the trip came on Wednesday evening as we sat in Café Rio mulling over our Pork Tostadas. In a 40-second span, a monotone desire to drill rehearsed by yours truly had us overcome with a gut-wrenching blast of hysterics. I sweated. Keith cried. The Rhinestone Cowboy even peed a little. For 15 minutes we sat there laughing, just bawling in humor. The entire restaurant wondered what had possessed us, especially the table next to us. What would cause us to snort out house dressing from our noses in between chuckles? As we sat there in tears, bright red from the giggle fits, all we could think about was the unanswered question of what would we do.

Yes kids, this has been a trip for the ages; one that I will remember for a long time. One that has created a horde of inside jokes that the three of us will snicker at for months and maybe even years to come. This has been a vacation that I think we all needed. At least I know that I sure needed this. Two and a half years ago when I applied for this job, I really had no idea what direction my life was headed. To me, this was just an entry-level position that would get me to the next step as soon as possible.

However, this job has meant more to me than Buckeye football, and that’s saying a lot. The people that I have met, the bonds that have been made, the miles that have been traveled, everything about it has made this the best damn entry level job a man like me could be privileged to have. And as I sit here in this ragged Pilot, listening to Keith and the Cowboy singing the chorus to “California Girls”, I can’t help but be grateful to be a part of road trips like these, and glad that two of the finest gents that I’ll ever have the privilege of meeting have put up with a scrawny little brother like me for so long. Whatever happens in the next 50 years, I will always remember that one true fact that has gotten us through every day of this trip.

I’m with you fellers’.

What do you think?

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