Driving on the interstate across the country is soothing for the soul. It’s you, your best friend(s), the road, and the music. It’s a feeling that is near impossible to replicate. Yet, I’ve found that some people are terrible travel companions. Nothing satisfies them, and their complaints become toxic and eat away at the peace that the road brings you. The car becomes a quiet war zone as we are all pitted against that one person. Visions of tying up the problem passenger to the nearest railroad track is discussed in several crazy eyed stares of those wanting to end the reign of terror.
“There are two types of people in this world, those who can ride with me and those who cannot not.”
Being a passenger in my car is the equivalent of going to Disneyland. With all great and grand things there must be order.
Rules of Vehicle Sholty:
- The passenger riding shotgun has the privilege to change the radio station and adjust the heat/AC settings, only if the ride is longer than sixty minutes.
- Shotgun is also the navigator. Our lives are in your hands, or in your ability to google map our way out of the scary portions of cities.
- If you are the passenger in the backseat, you do not get to complain about boredom, the level of the music as you try to sleep, or lack of comfortability the backseat offers. I’m sorry that my car isn’t The Hilton. Wait… I’m not sorry.
- Always be on the lookout for weird roadside attractions, because we are stopping or at least getting a quick picture as we drive past.
- Don’t hesitate to say you have to go to the bathroom. But if you say it every hour on the hour, I’m commandeering your drink.
- Be prepared to create songs. This classic tune was created by Tonya (also known as the best travel companion) and myself.
- “Stuck in Washington, Pennsylvania, for about an hour. We’d like to move it, move it.”
- You meet creepy people in traffic jams. Everyone is stopped. You roll down the windows for some fresh air. Be prepared to talk loudly about knives, self-defense, and quite possibly the use of skunk helicopters.
- All passengers must be supportive of the thing. This is a dictatorship and not a democracy.
The journey is 70% of the fun. I want it to be an enjoyable experience for all. It’s usually several hours of togetherness stuck in a moving metal death cube. It is a time to be crazy, share secrets, and to accidentally misread Virginian road signs as vagina. We band together against crazy drivers, caravans, and motorcycles who like to drive on the shoulder to pass. We give them ridiculous names like, Idgit Pumpernickel and Honda von Buttercrap. I know the journey is the destination is over said, but you learn so much about yourself and your best friends as you travel. You make memories that last a lifetime, and you live by that one unspoken rule: what happens in the car stays in the car. So don’t be that sourpuss that ruins the adventure for everyone. Let go, relax, and enjoy watching the mile markers fly by.