always new depths
Summertime has come and gone
All used up with wishful thinking
Get sussed out, get cynical
In this world there are no second chances
- Kele Okereke
Hunched over on the side of the interstate isn’t probably the best place to have an anxiety attack. Exit 140 is coming up. You know someone off this exit. Who? No matter, there’s a BP with a side parking lot and at this hour no one is going to notice you vomiting over the edge of the curb. Oh Pepto Bismal why have you forsaken me? You’ll need a Gatorade after this. And a banana. God bananas smell gross, but you’ll need the potassium after you’ve vomited to get back…the potassium you lost vomiting… At least you’re not in the other car with the banana peels on the dash. Why does he do that anyway? It’s not as if his hatchback doesn’t reek of b.o. enough as it is. What a wonderful start to a six-hour road trip. Oh crap here comes a dry heave. And then you’ll still have six hours left on this drive. Maybe if you close your eyes you’ll wake up someplace you’ve never been. But you’ve never been to Topsail before. Then again if you close your eyes behind the wheel you’ll end up in one of those places you don’t really believe in. Heaven and Hell? Oh right. The fear of those places is enough to keep you awake. And dry heaving. Why did you have to drink those beers last night at one a.m. and be friendly with those girls that were visiting your roommate. Your mother warned you about girls and alcohol didn’t she? Wait. Your mother also wanted you to go to college. Those things go hand in hand in college. Like peanut butter and jelly. Complementary goods is what that’s called, right? Maybe you should’ve finished that econ minor you started. You’d have the answer. Right, and this is definitely the time to be thinking about your undergraduate years. You’re getting your Masters soon. Okay so three years isn’t too soon but you’re only twenty-five and by the time you’re finished the time you spent in graduate school will still be less than eleven percent of your lifetime. That’s calming. Didn’t you have a dry heave to heave. How have you not reached exit 140 yet.
-
Well at least he peed in the woods behind the station and got some coffee. And bananas. But no, you didn’t want one of the bananas. You’re too worried about what you’d do with the peel after you ate it. No sense in trying to throw it out the window while driving. You’d probably lose control of the car and veer into one of many state troopers you’ve seen pulled over. And if you didn’t they’d probably see you throw it out your window. That’s a felony. At least that’s what your middle school bus driver said. No throwing things out the window. She called an object thrown from a vehicle a missile, or projectile. Banana peels aren’t even indigenous to the shoulder of interstate 95. That’s not where they belong. You’re going senile.
-
Here comes another dry heave. Is it better to drive with two hands at ten and two or one hand anywhere on the wheel when dry heaving? Falling asleep or not you’re going to crash this car at some point or another. Might as well stop and turn around now. No point in driving another five and a half hours to a wonderful beach house for the weekend. That wouldn’t be enjoyable at all to you now would it? Maybe he’ll want to stop by your sister’s house in Richmond and that’s where you can make your slip. She won’t mind being awakened at seven a.m. on a Saturday. Friday nights can’t be too busy for a couple that work in the restaurant business and have a nine-month old child. She’d love to see you at this hour. Dry heaving and all.
-
So he was kind enough to stop in Richmond. Had to pee again. It’s alright, so did you. And vomit promptly afterwards as well. So what if you felt weak and on the verge of tears asking your sister to come by at this hour. She understands your “anxiety attacks.” Offered your some Triscuits and ginger ale. Your sister knows you well. Made you feel special when she said her child has the same dimple as you do. Special like the time she said they even named him after your “American” name. No, not that one. The one your cousin named you before your white friends gave you one. Yes, that one. The only thing is he convinced you to keep driving. Didn’t mind you holding him up. Thought it was better to feel like crap on the road than in the house. He wasn’t going to let you bail. Good friend your ass. Doesn’t he see you’re a pansy. Only another five hours to go here. My god why does traffic keep breaking for no apparent reason! And wonderful. You’ve spilled Gatorade all over your crotch. The onlookers will love to tell everyone they saw someone puking on the side of the road that had just peed their pants. They’d be clever and say “Well I’d puke too if I peed my pants in this humidity.”
-
Carolina state border at last. But no sign of Bojangles to be seen. Probably for the best. You’re not ready for Bojangles. You could use some gas though. You’re making great mileage. Hooray Toyota! You haven’t even had to use the a/c yet. Windows down for you. But no music. That’s a change. Music’ll save your soul. From what? You don’t need to be saved. Anxiety what? Exactly.
-
How did you just drive six hours, in a car, by yourself, out of state, to the South, where they have confederate flags? ‘Cause you’re a man, that’s how. You need food. That dumb bitch with the broken windshield kept you from passing the semi and you couldn’t signal him to take exit 364. Wonderful exit 364 with a Bojangles. He wouldn’t eat Bojangles. Those Boberry biscuits aren’t organic. You really shouldn’t call a stranger a bitch. Meh. Let’s get you some crab cakes.
-
Those crab cakes were not worth ten dollars. And it was not worth driving six hours to take a nap under the pier while he surfed. You could’ve been in bed those six hours and not had an anxiety attack. You could’ve done something with your life. And now it’s raining. At the beach. Who goes to the beach for it to rain? You, you moron. You even checked the weather before you left. Fifty-percent chance of thunderstorms the entire weekend. You love thunderstorms but you don’t drive six hours to experience them in out of state beach settings. Apparently you do.
-
Apparently it’s not a waste of electricity to keep these hot tubs running. Families are in and out every week. Water has high specific heat he tells you, therefore it’s more efficient to keep the hot tubs on. The ones with covers at least. Those are always left on. Who knows if we even belong at this house. We think it’s the right house. You even locked your keys and wallet and phone inside the sliding door cause they sometimes keep those unlocked. Great place to lose your keys and wallet and phone the beach. The beach in the south. They fly confederate flags here in the south. Sure they gave you Michael Jordan and Bojangles, but the south shall rise again. Like that rising tide. My god. You’re along the ocean in a hot tub out in the pouring rain. This is refreshing. This is calming. This is wet. This is beautiful.