The trip across

It began in San Jose. Jon Shev had accepted a job offer on the shore of a different pond, replacing his old friend in a job teaching inner city school children Latin. While San Jo' may have been the spot the odometer started rolling, the actual journey started a few weeks before for me and for Jon it was the end of a struggle to find a teaching position. For him the job offered a few things. The chance to actually help some underprivileged high school kids learn about the world outside of the street corner. It gave him a decent salary, a rarity for a starting teacher, and it gave him a new setting in a town with a few familiar faces.

For me the trip was an opportunity to escape my self imposed prison we all call Elk Grove. I was bored, I was ready for a new setting.

Jon made it into Elk Grove midday, we packed the car with my car and took off, but we didn't make it far. I traded a hundred dollar Kohl's card for pot money and met a friend for some substance for the trip. No way was I driving that far sober. We were forced to wait, as is often the case in picking up illegal substances for a call back from one of four sources. Pen and Teller's Bullshit helped us pass the time before a call finally came, we then followed my friend to a house in antelope, picked it up, shook hands with my friend, then made way to my mom's house.

Jon is a master of awkwardness with oddly timed inflections in his questions and answers during conversation. Usually you can catch the reaction of those who don't know him or expect his odd demeanor, generally an expression of bewilderment. This was not the case when he shook my mom's hand, quite the opposite really. My mom apparently is too even keeled to ever show a reaction to any of his answers, and boy were there a few questions. I had sprung the whole idea for the move on her a week before, and she wasn't sure if I was going to do it until 2 days before Jon arrived. She was a little worried, but she wouldn't let her concern effect her judgement, thus the even keeled questions and non responsive nods. Jon survived my mother and we were off.

I took the first leg of the trip, starting at 7:00pm. We made it to Reno in no time. I suggested to Jon (while rolling the first joint of the trip) to sleep as much as he could. His anxiousness had taken a hold of him however and he was unable to sleep. It was near 3am before I saw him nod off, and even then only for thirty minutes or so. The Nevada countryside is completely uneventful, especially at night. The only moments of interest were the random processing plants, lighting up the darkness like an industrial scene from final fantasy seven. We reached the east border of Nevada and stopped in a dilapidated gambling town on the edge of Utah meant to attract degenerate mormons. The place was stuck in time. We chose the Peppermill, a familiar name that seemed like the lesser of the 3-4 evils and parked. Jon used the opportunity to use the bathroom to brush his teeth, garnishing odd looks from the late night gamblers. I rolled my 2nd joint and made my way in after him to find some food. Three words describe this place. Gaudy, Neon, Pink. Ill throw in ridiculous for good effort. Neither of us could stop laughing as we ordered food.