This story is about the day I got my license and all the trouble I got into with it. Kids, do NOT do this, even though it makes for one hell of a story to tell. My best friend in high school, Kent Roth, was along for this one (He wanted me to use his name, so I will; If I put a last name, it’s probably a real name).
It was March 9, 2002, two days after my birthday. I had just gone with my dad to get my license after failing the driving test on my birthday. Now before you start to think “Oh, he’s a terrible driver, he failed his driving test the first time” let me assure you, IT WAS NOT MY FAULT! The person driving with me failed me for what is a VERY stupid reason. I was at a four-way stop and an old man was about to cross the street. I was waiting for him to cross, but instead he waved me through. So I went. The instructor failed me because, and I quote “pedestrians ALWAYS have the right of way, even if they wave you on.” I had to wait two days to try again. Luckily, the next time I tried I didn’t have to drive, so I got my license.
That night, there was a play at the school I had just transferred from, EV. There was a girl in the play who I had a crush on when I was at EV, Bethany. Embarrassing story with that one, I wrote her a love note when I was 15. She showed her friends, they all got a good laugh out of it. Good thing I wasn’t going to school with them, anymore. Anyway, Bethany invited me up to watch her play, some piece of shit play that had some good actors, but just wasn’t good in general. It may have been written by the director, I’m not entirely sure about that. Bethany was the star, though, and I was mesmerized by her presence. Thank you, hormones. Oh, and I dragged Kent along with me. And my friend, Johnny, met us there to hang out.
Anyway, I sat through two hours of this god awful play, clapped and told everyone afterward “Oh, it was really good, you did great, etc.” Yes, I said et cetera to one of them. Seriously. I thought it was funny, but then again, I’m a dick. I talked to Bethany for a little while after the play, before her boyfriend came over and things got a little uncomfortable. See, HE knew I had a crush on her, too. So Kent, Johnny, and I left to just drive around and hang out for a while.
Somehow, we came upon a brilliant idea: Put Johnny in the trunk of the car and drive around with him back there! All three of us thought it was a great idea, so Johnny crawled in the trunk and we sped off into the night. We drove around the town for, like, 45 minutes, and then I went out on a gravel road and started to purposely swerve. We had the radio cranked up as high as it would go, so I didn’t hear anything except that. Kent, however, heard a noise. So I turned down the radio, and sure enough, there was a loud banging coming from the trunk. I opened the trunk and Johnny jumped out, slammed the trunk shut, and began walking. He walked right past the car, and looked PISSED. Kent and I looked at each other for a moment.
“Dude, we could get in a lot of trouble for doing that,” was Kent’s response.
I started to worry, so I drove up alongside Johnny and started trying to calm him down. It wasn’t working at all. So I did the only thing I could think of; the thing I was about to regret saying and subsequently doing.
“Do you want to drive, and I’ll get in the trunk?” An eye for an eye seemed like a good idea at the time. Kent’s eyes became as wide as saucers and he started shaking his head no. Johnny stopped in his tracks and turned toward the car, a HUGE grin on his face. He nodded excitedly and opened the driver door for me. Reluctantly I got out of the car and opened the trunk. I got inside and rested my head where the tire was. Now would be a good time to mention one very important fact about my car at the time: The shocks were… well, they were pretty much nonexistent. Johnny slammed the trunk door shut and suddenly the car was moving VERY quickly. Another good fact to mention about my car is that it was an old police interceptor. For the vehicle illiterate, this meant there were no restrictor plates. THIS meant that the car went VERY fast. Are you starting to see where this is going?
Johnny sped the car up to at least 90, Kent later told me. The problem with an eye for an eye is that, usually, the second person taking the eye is going to be much nastier about it. He did donuts in parking lots, he swerved, he sped, and he slammed on the brakes. It wasn’t until he dropped off a curb that the car, having no shocks, bounced me up in the air and slammed my head down onto the area that was previously being used as a resting place for my noggin. I screamed in pain and the car stopped. The trunk opened, and Johnny and Kent came back to check on me. I staggered out of the trunk, literally seeing stars in front of my eyes as I did. They asked if I was okay. I nodded and Johnny handed me my keys. I immediately took him home then did the same for Kent and myself.
On the way back, Kent was laughing. “Dude, that was a BAD idea.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I tried to tell you not to do it.”
“I didn’t want to get in trouble…”
That night, Kent stayed the night. He was a bit of a night owl, and I ended up staying up until 5 A.M. before I finally passed out. Kent didn’t sleep at all that night. Now, I’m not sure if this was a previously existing condition or if it was caused by my head getting slammed in the trunk, but that night is the first time I was told that I talk in my sleep. Kent told me the next morning that, while I didn’t speak full sentences, I said one name in my sleep over and over. “Bethany.” I have no recollection of any dream involving her and I had no idea I was saying her name.
I have since said many things in my sleep, most of which I don’t remember. One time, I did wake myself up yelling “knock it the fuck off” in my sleep. I have also been told that I said “What is causing this infraction in my faith” while sleeping. These are just a few examples that I remember. If I say other things, I have yet to know about them. So if you ever find yourself sleeping next to me or even in the next room, prepare to hear something crazy come out of my mouth and remember that I have no idea what I’m saying.
No comments:
Post a Comment