I went out with manchild on memorial day, after two nights of minimal/no sleep. I was in a surprisingly good mood, and my guts were behaving themselves because I didn’t give them any ammunition. With the exception of medical appointments, I hadn’t gotten out of the house since my parents brought me home.
He was anxious and enraged by traffic, and I questioned his offer to take me for a ride. Like, was he going to drive me out to the bay and throw me in with some cement galoshes to “swim” with the fishes? Apparently he just felt bad about my hermitism.
He drove to Annapolis and we stopped at whole foods so he could use the bathroom and give me a chance to drool all over the stuff I can’t eat. I was looking for Plentils, but they didn’t have any. Whole Foods fail! There were lentil chips, but they had a bunch of extra shit in them that I didn’t want.
We paid the the troll four dollars to cross the bay bridge for the first time. I’m either a nerd, or I don’t get out enough, because it was pretty fucking cool! It’s over 4 miles long! It was exciting until we realized the westbound traffic was stopped and backed up for miles. He drove around Kent island for a while, then we took the long long long way home. Northeast to 95, then back down through Baltimore. He paid another four dollars to drive through the Baltimore harbor tunnel. Yes, I geeked out again.
We stopped at a rest area when we were about 90 minutes from home, and the weirdest thing happened. The rest area was PACKED. Tons of people. So many people, we had to drive around for 10 minutes to find a place to park. During that time, all I could think about was all of the butts touching the toilet seats. I really had to go, but noooo thanks, I’ll hold it. I don’t trust ass gaskets. I’ve never been a germophobe, and I’ll happily go anywhere so long as there’s TP, so this was a new experience. So. Many. Butts.