Youth is about the most overrated quality for a person to have. It makes you stupid, blind, and much too moody.

That being said, it is because of my youth that I finally found a fitting name for my ratty 72' Oldsmobile Cutlass S (maybe the concept of naming one's car is childish as well, but why not personify one of your greatest obsessions )

It all started from an outlandish, immature argument I had with my girlfriend, which later proved to be completely unnecessary (hindsight is 20-20, isn't it ). Long story short, I was very angry, and stormed out of the house, jumping into my Olds to punish the road underneath me with my Rocket 350.

Arriving at my friend's house at the crack of midnight to vent, I walked in to his living room and sat down on the couch, idly watching Easy
Rider on his TV.

"I love this movie, I could care less how many times I watch it," Kegan gleefully commented, seemingly needing to justify his addiction to this Hollywood masterpiece.

"This one and Vanishing Point," I glumly agreed. I sank lower into the cushions, brooding on my previous fight but trying desperately not to think about it. I began instead imagining myself in Vanishing Point. "I've always wanted to drive like a maniac through the desert in an old V8," I rambled, remembering the images of Kowalski carving up the dry canyons in his beautiful Challenger.

"Ahh, me too man," Kegan enthusiastically concurred. Silenced enveloped the room again for several minutes.

Suddenly, he jumped up from his seat like a firecracker was set off underneath his rear end.... (story continues)

 

"I just- I just got my paycheck," he yelled, stuttering with energy.

"So," I asked, wondering what the hell had his dumb a$$ so excited.

"We could do this, we could drive through Nevada, to Winnemucca, really fast! Right now!"

"Uh, we're kinda in Oregon, and that's kinda, a, long way," I replied, unsure if I had heard him right.

"I don't care, let's go pull a Kowalski... That is minus the high speed chase," he stated with more determination than a buck chasing a doe in season.

"That would be a complete waste of money man," I countered. There was no way we could afford this...

...Several minutes later the car was warmed up and he was waiting in the driver's seat. I finished loading the extra gas cans into the trunk (which we would need if we were to make it to the middle of The Silver State), slammed my door shut, and we careened on to the road, burying my tailights in tire smoke as the engine roared and the car shot off into the moonlit night...

 

"I can't believe you got me into this," I bemoaned.

"Just shut up and enjoy the drive," he snapped at me.

For the next several hours we talked about everything from politics to guns to our favorite comedy scenes from Metalocalypse as we screamed through the night at highly illegal velocities. The black and dark blue blobs of scenery along the arrow straight road rushed by, and the conversation between us never waned.

After several hours Kegan began to tire, so I took over just in time to carve up the twisty canyon between Oregon and Nevada at speeds that made certain body orifices pucker like fish lips. I was shifting between Drive and Super to help compression brake on the hairpin curves as the golden sun began to rise in the distance.

Emerging slightly from my brainfog, I vaguely began to remember the Olds advertisements I had seen on Youtube that were from the Sixties (remember the overly cheesy Doctor Oldsmobile, with his huge fu man chu and white lab coat, giving you your prescription for performance?)

Kegan laughed as I told him about the stupid jingle, then paused for several seconds, deep in thought...

 

"Weren't you trying to come up with a nickname for her," he asked.

"Yes, I was. Maybe something like Betty or Olive," I said, thinking back to the lesser ideas that had spawned in my pea brain. "She sure is therapeutic to drive like this when I'm pissed off, though. She helps put me in a good mood."

"How about th-"

"The Doc," I interrupted.

"Exactly what I was thinking" he replied...

We drove on after that, still talking the whole way, but we never did make it to Winnemucca. Instead, we made it about twenty miles past the Nevada border, decided that we were exhausted, and turned around. We never stopped other than to refill my gas tank. It was about the most pointless road trip I had ever taken, but I guess at least we got to further enjoy that worthless form of stupid, nearsighted, selfish kind of energy known as youth, and if nothing else we learned how to reenact Vanishing Point along the way.

The end, for now...

 

Neat story! I think the "worthless" or "unneccessary" trips are the most fun!
Glad there was no hard luck involved. Those are even better...

 

Sometimes you just gotta do it. Doesn't have to make sense. Most of us have been there at least once. Even when you get older it sometimes happens

 

Did you make up with your girlfriend afterwards?.

 

Here, posting some pictures of our high- speed rampage;
100_1526.jpg?t=1298973567030.jpg?t=1298973567
Whoops, the tape feel off of my driving light!

http://i481.photobucket.com/albums/r...g?t=1298973567
http://i481.photobucket.com/albums/r...g?t=1298973567
http://i481.photobucket.com/albums/r...g?t=1298973567

 

And yes, well, kinda, but not really... Well suffice it to say that things are wierd, but that's not the point of my story. I just wanted to post an entertaining little read about a completely pointless adventure

 

I liked it...well written too

 

Thank you very much!