Okay, so it took me 22 days to write the final chapter. As stated many times before, I'm laaazy. Plus I finally got money in my poker account again, so I've been spending my spare time punching my desk and yelling incoherently at my monitor. I love poker.
Anyways, where were we? Oh yea, that mother nature bitch.
I decided I should go to bed just after the rain started. I was fairly buzzed, but not buzzed enough (or dressed appropriately enough) for a rain party. I got into my tent, got all curled up and comfy, and promptly fell asleep. At some point in the next couple hours, I was awoken by:
A) Gale force winds;
B) An avalanche of water being dumped on my tent;
C) The side of my tent hitting me in the face:
D) ALL OF THE FUCKING ABOVE. Welcome to hurricane season in SW Washington, Tim.
My el cheapo Walmart tent was obviously not made for hurricanes. Actually, I think it might have collapsed if someone just ran by it really quickly. I wasn't thinking about that when I bought it though. I was thinking "What's the bare minimum I can get by with, and still have a shitload of money left over for as many Keystone Lights as possible?". Nice work, fatty. I was paying for my single-mindedness now. I awoke, in the fetal position, to...hell.
The tent had basically imploded. All 4 sides were now perilously close to my face. The fly was still attached, but was blowing more than Jenna Jameson in her prime. Whenever it flipped up, a not-so-nice spritzer of rain would enter through the mesh. And hit me in the face. I had puddles of water all around me, and my sleeping bag, clothes, and bag were all soaked. My hair was soaked. I guess it could be compared to being in the womb, but the water was colder and I'm pretty sure I wasn't gonna get breasts to suck on when I finally escaped.
My first thought was "Hooooly shit, if I wasn't in this tent right now, I wonder how far away it'd be from here?" My second thought was "How the fuck did I sleep through this for this long? It looks like a rain abortion in here." My 3rd thought was in sync with my first words..."JESSSSS!!! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK IS THIS FUCKING SHIT!"
He was awake too, unsurprisingly. He yelled back something I couldn't understand cuz the wind was too loud. Our tents were like 10 feet away from each other, and we couldn't even hear one another. Do the math there, champ. Shit was fucked up! I decided I had to get the fuck outta there, ASAP. I got dressed in 0.28 seconds, and got outta my tent.
And it blew away.
My first thought came true in about 2 seconds. Even though my sleeping bag, backpack, and various other shit was in there, the fucking thing took off like a missile. Luckily there was a big bank of trees about 5 feet from where my tent was originally located, so it blew into them. I chased it down and pulled it over to the picnic table. Proving that I'm smart at least SOME of the time (ya know, other than deciding camping in hurricane season was an awesome idea!), I popped one of the poles out, put it around the leg of the cemented-in picnic table, and re-attached it to it's peg. Luckily, it held.
I've been outside for about 45 seconds at this point, and I'm straight up soaked. Jess emerges from his tent, which has a shitload of water inside as well, and we load all our shit into the rav 4. After 3 minutes, I feel like I've taken a shower with my clothes on. The wind is cutting right through my wet clothes, and I'm colder than Luc Bourdon is right now.
Hoooleee shit that was a terrible joke. If that offended anyone...sweet!
Anyways, the next words out of bitch's mouth were golden: "Fuck it, let's grab a beer". We did so, and decided to drink it in the only warm, dry, and unoccupied place we could think of.
The bathroom.
Yup yup, we ran across the street, and drank our beers in the heated shitter. It was 4:10am. I used the heatblower thing to try and dry my shoes, to no avail. We laughed about our situation, and tried to come up with a suitable solution. All we could come up with was "let's drink beer and sit in the Rav 4". So...that's what we did.
We sat in the car for 7 hours, and got completely smashed. We drank a whole bottle of baileys, and a shitload of beer. We could only get 2 radio stations...the christian station, and a country station. So we alternated between betting how many lines into a song "Jesus" or "The Lord" would be said...and we sang country songs. Do you have any fucking idea how fucking funny country music is at 7am, after a bottle of baileys? "International Harvester", by Craig Morgan, could be the funniest drunk song of all time. "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk", by Trace Adkins...not far behind.
By the time the girls got up at 11am (it had stopped raining around 8:30), the first thing Jess slurred to Jamie was "Woman, we'rrre drrrunk. Drrrive us to town for brreakfast! Now!" We were so drunk they wouldn't even eat at the same restuarant as us. They dropped us off and went up the street. After our drunken lunch, we staggered out and up to where they were. After a couple blocks we hear "HEEEEEY" from behind us...and a fat girl was chasing us. I'm used to the fat girl love by now, so I thought she just wanted an autograph or something...but she was holding my jacket. Oops...it was our waitress, chasing us down to give it back. That was actually really nice of her. She had a big heart...figuratively and literally.
After arrival back at the site, the girls started talking about where they could shop. I told them to go to Astoria, but they didn't think anything was there. I dunno where the hell it came from, but I told them about the Astoria walmart, and said they could get tonsa cheap shit there. They thought that was a great idea, so they buggered off to the Astoria walmart.
Why is this funny? Cuz there is no Astoria walmart.
Jess thought it was hilarious that they actually bought the story and went to find it, but it turned out waaaay better than that. While Jess and I had a nice nap and watched a couple movies in the nice warm yurt, the girls went on a wild goose chase for an imaginary walmart. When they got to Astoria and couldn't find it, they asked a lady, who filled them in on the lack of a walmart...but she told them there was one in Longview, which was "only 20 miles away". This lady was seriously retarded, cuz Longview is at least 90 miles from Astoria. But the girls didn't know that...so they drove all the way there for Walmart.
And it was closed. Easter sunday.
Needless to say, they were not amused with Timmy when they got back. FIVE HOURS LATER. Hey, we had a good nap....at least someone enjoyed their time!
After sitting around for a while, we decided to go to town for dinner. The McDonalds in Long Beach has an air hockey table! This shit was on! I whooped Jess like cyclones whoop Myanmar, and ripped a huge hole in the crotch of my jeans while celebrating a goal. Dammit. After that, we went to buy more booze, but the town liquor store couldn't sell hard stuff after 8pm or some shit. What the hell? It's America. Part of it's charm is that you can get blasted on 2 dollar ghetto swill at anytime of the day. BS.
We were outta firewood, so we went to the store to grab some...and that was closed too! However, there were 5 bundles of firewood that just happened to be sitting in front of the store....was it free? We didn't know. After sitting there and debating it for a couple minutes, Melissa (you know it was you!) said we should just grab it. I was peer-pressured into volunteering...and I committed a felony. Or a misdemeanor. Or something. I grabbed 3 bundles, stuffed them in the car, and I had committed my first real crime (other than drinking in public). I'm not gonna lie folks, it felt good. Damn good.
After the best fire ever, everyone passed out pretty early. Jess and I ditched the whole tent idea. He slept with Jamie in the yurt (rat bastard), and I decided to sleep in the Rav 4. Round peg...square hole. I didn't exactly fit too well. Jess and Jamie thought I was up all night drinking, cuz they kept hearing cans opening on the patio of the yurt, where the cooler was. Nope. That fucker Steve, the one-eyed dorito-stealing raccoon douchebag, systematically bit a hole in every single one of my remaining beers during the course of the night. One last pimp slap from mother nature for disrespecting and underestimating her.
Thanks a lot, bitch. And I don't mean Jess.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment