So, as you can tell by the fact that I have written this post, I did not suffer a terrible accident over the Labor Day weekend, putting an end to my fear that I should avoid all three day weekends. But I wasn't too sure that was going to be the case as I started out on my voyage to OC on Friday night.
Having just written my last post, I decided it was probably best that I avoid eating my leftover Chinese food, and instead went with a bowl of Campbell's soup, before jumping into my car (without any injury) for my trip. Since I was going to be in my car a bit, I decided it would be smart to clean it up first, so I threw away like 10 empty Gatorade bottles that had piling up, along with some miscellaneous papers and such, and everything is feeling good as I pull out of my driveway.
I've got my iPod all prepped and pumping through the radio as I jump onto 495 on this rainy Friday evening at about 7:30. I figure I'm behind the rush hour traffic, and Rick, his girlfriend and his buddy have left around this time as well, so we should all arrive about the same time.
We did end up arriving about the same time, but that time was 1:15 AM. Yep, 6 hours to drive 150 miles...you do the math. On the other hand, don't do the math...let me give you a recap of this new Holiday weekend horror story.
As anyone who lives in the DC area will tell you, any precipitation falling from the sky causes the local drivers to downgrade their driving abilities from abnormally bad to Dustin Hoffman in 'Rain Man' status. Sure enough, the rain has all the 'tards going about 25 MPH around the beltway, even at this late hour. Luckily, the traffic breaks for me at around the split off for 95 North and I'm cruising again, all the way to Route 50 and past Bowie.
Everything seems good as I'm making back some of the time I lost from the Beltway debacle, and then I see the sign. 'Delays at the Bay Bridge: 9 Mile Backup.' Holy crap. This just went from bad to worse, and then I came to a screeching stop just short of Annapolis at around 8:45. And then I sat...and sat...and sat.
Normally, I would be fuming mad, getting very impatient, and contemplating just getting off at the next exit and turning around for the night amidst several expletives, but for some reason I am exceptionally calm and at ease. No, I wasn't high. I think the jaw rehabilitation and my concerns over some bizarre psychological side effects have finally shown the first sign of a change. I was forced to be patient, trapped inside the wires that bound my mouth for 7 weeks. Unable to get frustrated and rip them off, I became content...I became reconditioned. Well, whatta ya know?
So there I sat, completely fine with my situation. My first problem is not much of a problem after all. Crank up the tunes, drink another can of Pepsi (I brought two so I wouldn't have to stop) and watch the other drivers as we cruise on ever so slowly.
8 Miles and 2 hours later (I ain't shittin' you) and a new problem has developed. As delicious as those Pepsi's were a little while ago, I am regretting the obvious outcome which occurs when you drink 24 ounces of soda after a liquid dinner. My bladder is aching. And of course, I just threw away 10 perfectly good urinals a few hours earlier. Talk about dumb luck. There's no exit in sight, and it's gonna be at least another hour til I get to the toll plaza, just to try and cross the bridge. And then I stare down at them...the only containers left in my perfectly clean car, the empty Pepsi cans.
There is no way I'm gonna be able to pee in that small hole and to even attempt to put my dick near that sharp metal sends shivers down my back...plus it's still Friday, and I'm awaiting a horrible injury. I'd have to say cutting my dick off while trying to piss in a can in my car would definitely be classified as 'horrible.' But what other choice do I have? I must do something. So I take my thumb and smash it down into the top of the can...and the metal tears!!! Perhaps things won't be so bad after all. I'm able to push down the metal from the top of the can enough to make a large enough hole to minimize my fears (yeah, yeah, make with the small penis jokes...jackasses).
I am almost shaking with pain and have been pushing on my groin area for the last 5 minutes to try and hold back my pee as I whip my wang out and try to position myself to pee in the can. This would likely not be as awkward if the people in the other cars were not more or less at a complete stop around me, in an area flooded by headlights, but I tredge on...and oh, is it good. The can couldn't hold much, requiring me to do two pinch offs (ouch) and pour outs on the highway (like no one knew what I was doing) and I spilled a bit on myself (small price to pay), but I made it through another possible disaster unscathed. Now we're back on track.
After a quick stop at a Wawa to meet up with Rick and the crew, and we're both still west of the Bay Bridge at 11 PM. Rick made the executive decision to take the fine and drive through the EZ Pass lanes, saving us a good hour more of waiting, and we're up on the bridge cruising at 30 MPH (which is like NASCAR at this point). The wind is ridiculously strong, causing my car to sway up and down as I drive by trucks, but the ordeal is over shortly, the speed picks up, and all is good as we cruise into OC on a Saturday morning...the Holiday Weekend Horrible Friday has come and gone, and I am not in the hospital.
Disasters avoided...now on to the greatness of a weekend in Ocean City. Unfortunately for you, I'm tired right now so the stories...and some classic pictures will have to wait til tomorrow.