Night had fallen. Only the headlights of my car could distinguish between the sky and the winding asphalt of the Saw Mill River Parkway. It was around 5:45pm. I looked at the passenger seat. My best friend Sam had been with me, laughing, recalling memories of our journey to South Carolina and back. But now, the fresh wrinkles in the tan leather seat were the only memory of him being there.
Just a few hours ago, Sam and I were on our “Great Southern Road Trip.” Our journey took us to Baltimore, Charlotte, Kiawah Island, and Raleigh-Durham. The two of us had been planning this since the summer.
The first day of our adventure may seem uneventful. To a certain extent it was. Traveling on the New Jersey Turnpike consisted of the usual: the smell of sulfur and kerosene wafting into the air conditioning as we passed the Newark Industrial Area and Newark Liberty International Airport, the unfinished roadwork projects all the way down to Philadelphia, and of course, the crazy New Jersey driver.
After we crossed the Delaware Memorial Bridge and out of the small, irrelevant state of Delaware, the only thing we really encountered was a drug bust and an arrest outside of Aberdeen, Maryland. I felt pretty bad for the guy who got arrested. I certainly wouldn't want to be ogled by hundreds of freeway drivers.
The next morning, we were on our way to Charlotte. For the first hour, we made pretty good time—we evaded the debacle of the DC Beltway and charged into Virginia.
The weather was spectacular—mid to high fifties, the sky was bright blue and very few clouds were in the sky. I even contemplated putting the windows down, but I didn't feel like messing up Sam’s perfectly combed and styled hairdo. He would probably have killed me if I did.
Once we got past Richmond, I was able to floor it. There’s nothing more satisfying than speed—within reasonable boundaries. Two hours and a rest stop later, we were in North Carolina. From our front seat view, we saw the blue sky give way to shades of pink, yellow and orange, and eventually ink.
Charlotte is no vacationer’s destination. The streets are one way, and there are skyscrapers and modern buildings: all classic trademarks of a financial capital in the United States. But it is home to the Carolina Panthers NFL team. Sam had yet to go to any sporting event, let alone a Southern football game, so as a Hanukkah/Christmas gift of sorts, I treated him to his first ever football game.
The following morning, Sam and I were on our way to the Bank of America Stadium, home of the Panthers. Thanks to Charlotte’s small size, the stadium was ten minutes away on foot. It allowed us to take the time to observe the city like the locals do. Unsurprisingly, people in North Carolina are crazy about their football team. As we headed down Tryon street (the street our hotel was on), all the public parking lots on either side of the street were filled with people wearing the Honolulu blue, silver, and black jerseys of Panthers players. Even at ten in the morning, they were already grilling up burgers. The smell was enticing enough for me to join. Then again, that wouldn't have been such a smart idea.
As we made a right from Tryon Street onto Stonewall Street, a voice caught my ear.
“You selling tickets?” A ticket scalper no doubt.
“No sir.” We didn't make eye contact. That didn't seem to bother him though.
As we walked up the block towards the stadium, I noticed him in the corner of my eye. He was Sam’s height. He wore a black Panthers beanie with a khaki colored jacket.
“You know he’s following us right?” I whispered.
“How do you know?”
“Because he’s right behind me. Just keep your head forward. And he won’t go after us. There’s a cop car right over there.” It was parked on the opposite side of the street.
The ticket scalper shouted, “Hey man! You look like Peewee Herman with those pants on!”
I began cracking up.
“That was fantastic.”
“Screw you!”
Thirty minutes after entering the stadium we were in the Panthers gear store. I took the time to buy myself a sweater. Sam for whatever reason, got a Panthers flag for the car, and a button down shirt that was too big for him.
He regretted both purchases.
The seats we had were six rows behind the goal line. It gave us some time to take a look at the players. Trust me, they look big on TV, but look even bigger in person. One running back for the Panthers, who had the number twenty-eight on his jersey was my height, but probably had thighs as big as oak trees. Now, the Panthers running back may have been a truck, but it was the defensive players on the Buccaneers that were tanks.
“Whoa. Look at that guy! He's a big boy!”
I was surprised hear that from Sam of all people. He was fascinated with a player on the Buccaneers. He wore the number ninety-eight.
“Sam, all the defensive ends are that big.”
Ten minutes before kickoff, the pre-game ceremonies began. And since we were in the heart of the Christian South, there was an invocation before the game. Sam, in his fake Ray Bans, just looked at me and shook his head. I felt uneasy as well. Personally, I don't think that religious prayer goes with a sporting event. I mean, I’m tolerant with people expressing their faith and all, but can’t we keep the two things separate?
“I just want you to know that at Jets games, this doesn't happen. Ever. It's a Southern thing.”
“Good.”
The Panthers got off to a great start, getting a touchdown in their first possession. Great thing about it was that the touchdown was scored on our end of the field. The rest of the game was a blowout. The Panthers annihilated the Bucs. I finally got Sam into football. I got my money’s worth. It was a good day.
###
Earlier that morning we had left Raleigh to go to Baltimore. On our way to Maryland, Sam and I planned to stop in Annandale, Virginia. Our reason for going there was that prior to our trip, I made plans to have dinner with Emily, a friend of mine. I met her last summer when I went to Korea, and I told her that I was going to be in town with Sam. She came up with the idea to meet us with her two friends that I met on the trip at a Korean restaurant in Annandale. In theory, the plan seemed good at the time.
By this time, Sam and I had a routine in the car: listen to the radio until the static kicked in, and then switch over to the iPhone so we could listen to some of my music. Once we got bored with that, we switched over to Lil B (a rapper who makes fun of rap with his own raps) on Sam’s ipod until the battery went dead. We then proceeded to listen Jay-Z, Kanye West, Lil Wayne, and Rick Ross on my iPhone. We merely listened to them because we found their lyrics to be a) unimaginative or b) hilarious. It became particularly useful when we were stuck in traffic on our way to Virginia.
“Aight, I am gonna play John by Lil Wayne.” Sam was in control of the iPhone.
“Go for it.” We had listened to this song at least five times on this trip—but it never got tired. “Shoes on the coupe, bitch I got a Nike shop, Counts the profits you could bring 'em in a Nike box." That was one of our favorite lines Rick Ross said in the song. As the song progressed, I was waiting. The best part had yet to play. “Here it comes…”
Then Rick Ross’s booming voice roared, “Pull up in the sleigh, hop out like I'm Santa Claus.”
“Oh my god... He is absurd!” Sam said in a squeaky voice an octave higher than it should ever go.
Since we got there so early, we had plenty of time to kill in the parking lot. Sam had to use the restroom, so we had to go to a Korean bakery, which meant that I had to buy something. I brought a bottle of Dasani and a bag of cookies up to the cashier, and whipped out the American Express card only to hear, “Sorry! We don't take American Express here.”
The young Korean man, behind the counter smiled at me. I checked my wallet, and I had to use a five-dollar bill, the change in my pocket, and some of Sam’s quarters to pay for the stuff. I felt kind of bad giving him change. There’s nothing worse than taking two minutes to nab every single coin in your pants pocket and wallet just to pay the cashier. And it’s much worse when a long line forms behind you. I’m pretty sure that everyone in line was giving me death glares. In the end, he took five cents off the bill. I’m sure he was pretty annoyed with me as I scrambled for the change in my pants and jacket pockets. I could only smile—it's a great way to relieve tension.
“Jeez, they trolled you man,” Sam said.
I was the one who trolled them. I couldn't even pay up in full.
Once we got back into the car, that's when things got out of hand. It started with another phone call. It was Sam’s mother. She wanted to see how he was doing, and what other plans he had for the winter break. Something jumped out during the conversation.
“Wait, you want me to get baptized?”
My jaw was about to fall out of my head. Did I hear that right? The call ended thirty seconds later. Same result as this morning. An unhappy Sam. “What was that all about?!”
“My mom got back into going to church services. I mean she isn’t one of those fanatical religious people. She sees value in it, and she thinks it's a great thing to bring people together. She’s taking me to New Year’s Day Mass. But she wants me to get baptized? Is she freakin’ serious?”
“Sam, there is no way in hell you are getting baptized. You are eighteen. You make your own choices!”
“Like I told you this morning, my dad is in outer space, and I have argued with my mom long enough to know not to mess with her. I have no idea what the hell I am gonna do.”
We were still in the parking lot when Emily came with her friends around 7:30. As we headed towards the door of the restaurant, Emily introduced me to her older brother, Harrison. That boy was jacked. He had a blond buzz cut and blue eyes. He also decided to bring his girlfriend, Shane, along. She had brown hair and blue eyes. She was wearing a blue cocktail dress and feather earrings. Oh boy, this is going to be interesting. I thought.
Emily is a kind and sweet girl, and she is quite pleasant to talk to when you get her alone. I saw her when she was in New York in October, and I had a really good time with her when we went out to dinner. We went out for Korean food, of course. During the trip, Bre and Emily were always together, so I just left them alone. Jamie was the sassiest out of the group—she’s from Brooklyn after all, and she and I got along very well on the trip. I also figured she would have good chemistry with Sam, which is why I set this plan up in the first place. Together, Emily and Jamie are great to hang out with. Unfortunately, when you put the two of them with Bre, and bring your brother along with his girlfriend, it doesn't necessarily equate to a fabulous dinner experience, as Sam and I would soon find out.
Unsurprisingly, Emily and Bre continued talking amongst themselves. I hadn’t seen Bre since the trip, and I really wanted to catch up with her. I gave up on that plan five minutes after we ordered the food. Most of the time, I kept on looking at Sam, his face was facing the table most of the time, and he didn't feel like talking either. At one point I looked at him, he looked at me and I mouthed to him, “Are you ok?” He just nodded his head up and down. I knew he wasn't enjoying himself.
This wasn't going well.
I then turned my attention to Harrison and his girlfriend, who were both on their phones. She was texting on her blackberry, and he was playing games on his iPhone. Clearly they didn't want to be there. In a way, I sort of felt bad for them. At the same time though, I wondered why they didn't get their own table, or go to a different restaurant. I mean, I certainly wouldn't want my sister and her friends around me if I were taking a date out to dinner.
In an attempt to salvage the disastrous dinner, I offered to take Emily and her friends home, so Harrison and his girlfriend could finally have some time to themselves. I also figured that Sam would get to speak to the girls. We all decided to go to the Korean bakery that Sam and I had gone to hours before. I made the fatal mistake of buying a piece of cake. Again, I created another long line. Not a good look. The conversations I had with Bre and Emily at the table weren’t particularly interesting either. But Sam started talking to Jamie, and was able to get her into the work of Rapper Lil B. She found his rapping hilarious—just like Sam and I did.
Yes! This whole event wasn't all for nothing! I thought.
Thirty minutes later, we arrived at Emily’s house in Chevy Chase. I hugged them all goodbye, and we sped off.
As we traveled back onto the beltway, I asked Sam the all important question: “Did you have a good time?”
“No.”
I wasn't surprised. “Neither did I. I wish we went straight up to Baltimore.”
“Well I told you, you were gonna like Jamie.”
“No, she’s great. She reminds of one of my other Brooklyn friends. We ought to see her sometime.”
“Word. But what did you think of the other two?”
“I mean, look. You and I went out of our way to see these ‘friends of yours’ and they didn't pay any attention to either of us. And, when we talked to them, they seemed to be making fun of you.”
“I completely agree. By the way, her brother and the girlfriend. Don't get me started.”
“Oh yea. Bro-Face played on his I-phone and when he spoke he couldn't hold the conversation. The girlfriend appeared dumb. I had a bad feeling when I saw them walk towards the restaurant.”
The rest of our conversation was dominated by the groaning of the snow tires on the concrete and asphalt, and the gusting sixty-mile an hour wind slapping the windshield. We drove into the night. And the following day we were on the road again, four hours of easy conversation and music, back to Dobbs Ferry, New York. I dropped Sam off and continued home, glancing at the empty seat as if he were still there.