AC Part I: The Drive
And thus it came to pass that, a full sixteen hours after the ideal start time; the five Baltimorons and their stuffed duck Pato departed Maryland on their road trip to Atlantic City. And the Lord saw this and said, “Ever since elementary school teachers told me not to begin a sentence with the word ‘And’. But, if the Bible is Me-breathed and infallible and it drops ‘And’ sentences like they were Pez, how could it possibly be incorrect syntax? Me-damn, that’s some deep doo-doo”.
Back to the non-blaspheming portion of the post: we divided up into two cars, Joe and Alex on point (military, not ballet) and Dave, Zak, and I in hot pursuit. For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of caravanning with Joe (traveling pattern, not homoerotic positioning), it’s kind of like following Jonathon Ogden in a queue to make number two at an All-You-Can-Eat Chinese Buffet: just surviving is admirable. As we changed lanes and speeds with the alarmingly inconsistent frequency of Yamon Figurs during a kick return, I couldn’t help but think of what I would type as my final words to my friends and family before bludgeoning Joe into submission with my laptop.
After a quick stop at the approximate halfway point for ice cream during a flurry, we trekked on towards Joe’s Grandparent’s place in Wildwood, New Jersey. Because I am infinitely lamer than even my writing style is able to express, I had created a CD with the most perfect “We’ve reached New Jersey” song possible for a little shared experience across cars. Therefore, it was accompanied by the pounding bass of the opening theme of “The Sopranos” that we crossed the stateline to drive through a long stretch of what Dr. Ian Malcolm would charitably describe as “one big pile of shit”.
That’s as good of a segue as any to warn you that it is unavoidable that my general distaste for New Jersey will be a common thread throughout this and the subsequent posts. Jersey is kind of like the fervently gothic girl in middle school: she was never much to look at, she was kind of smelly, and she wouldn’t be noticed for a number of weeks should she suddenly move away and attend some alternative program. It’s not that I’m suggesting that New Jersey should secede from our country, far from it. I’m suggesting that all like-minded individuals should go out and use any available tools to set to work chiseling New Jersey off from the continental United States to be set adrift into the Atlantic Ocean. (Author’s Note: If you are ever approached by a heavyset, balding man covered in obnoxious amounts of both gold jewelry and body hair while you are chiseling away, DO NOT LISTEN TO HIM when he suggests you “Foe-gett aboud-it” and follow him to get some pasta. You keep your head down and keep doing God’s work. [Author’s Amendment: If you don’t see any gold jewelry, then the man is me; make sure you say “Hi” and then hand over the biggest chisel you got.
Our last real stop before Atlantic City was a lunch break at Five Guys Burgers and Fries; because I needed copious amounts of fuel to energize my body for a long night of sitting and gesturing my intentions with either two or three fingers. Besides, what better way to prepare your gastro-intestinal tract for the ups and downs of gambling than eating food that renders it’s packaging translucent? Alex, feeling carsick from his time spent pressing a non-existent Driving Instructor’s secondary brake, gave his burger the same look Jesus must have given Judas after He revealed that He was to be betrayed. He (talking about Alex now, although the differences between the two are negligible) would later describe the three bites he managed to choke down as, “the three worst decisions of my life”.
And so, it was with heavy wallets and greater expectations than Charles Dickens that our heroes began their final descent into the city proper with their consensus favorite artist Bruce Springsteen blaring “meet me tonight in Atlantic City” over the radio. As Dan’s roommate Sarah pointed out, “that song’s really sad!” Yes Sarah, it is really sad; hopefully it will keep us both humble and wary in our adventures because, as Old Ben Kenobi once said about Atlantic City (or maybe it was somewhere else), “you'll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy…”
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