To New York City, And Back Again: An Epic Road Trip from 2009 - Part 2
New here? Read part 1!
Light leaves the sky quickly in springtime and we were driving in the dark long before we figured out where we were. Yet again, we found ourselves with an near-empty tank. Bear in mind the New Jersey is the land of “No Turns”. Nine of every ten intersections prohibits turns to the left or the right. Then every tenth has a “all turns turn right” sign which directs you to a big circle from which you can continue straight (effectively a right turn from your original position) or turn around and go back to the intersection. At that point you can continue straight (effectively a left turn) or turn left (effectively a U-turn) or turn right because you really didn’t know what you were getting yourself into but you finally had an opportunity to turn and thought it was so rare you might as well take it just to see what all the fuss was about. We pulled into the first reasonably-priced gas station we saw that we could also remember what side of the road it was on when we got to a point at which we could turn around. The convenience store was dark and there were two men sitting on either side of the entrance and one started walking up to our car as we pulled in. So we left. We were two young women, alone, in the dark, without lights or other people around, someplace we not only weren’t familiar with but couldn’t point to on a map. We weren’t even sure what state we were in! If you’re thinking that sounds like a great backdrop to the next Liam Nielson film, so were we. The next gas station was better lit and the man was standing at the pump we drove up to. Laura rolled down the window the tiniest bit to talk to him succinctly. The conversation went something like:
Laura: hello, sir
Man: card
Laura: what?
Man (Reaching hand into window slit): credit card
Laura (with an incredulous chuckle): no. (to me) I’m not doing that.
And away we went.
As it became more and more apparent that we weren’t going to successfully find a place to pump the gas ourselves, Laura remembered her dad worked growing up pumping gas for people in Michigan. It seemed a more plausible explanation than men were waiting at every gas station in the state for just our jackpot of a situation to come along. We got gas at the next available place, the most expensive yet, and assumed this was a clue we were heading the right way toward NYC.
But where to sleep?
We weren’t opposed to sleeping In the car but we needed showers before our big city debut. It was so late at this point we wouldn’t get a full night’s rest anyway - could we rent a hotel room by the hour just to shower? Looking back, I really can’t believe we asked this question, but we most definitely did...and were denied! The motel owner was quickly convinced that we were highschoolers trying to throw a party. We wasted at least a half hour of our precious dwindling night hours being lectured about “no alcohol in the room” and “two people only” and “no more people” and “if I sees more people coming into your room or see you carry in alcohol i kick you kicked out”. It went well.
The owner kept the spare key to our room (actual keys, not key cards) so he could get in if we were having a party. The room he assigned us was right across from the front office and he opened the curtain so he could keep an eye on our room. The rooms were just the type of place it was clear many other people had used for drunken high school parties and hourly employment. I remember there was a crack in the door frame which was drafty and through which we could see the window of the front office. Laura remembers that we were so creeped out by the room that we took off all the covers and slept in the same bed (furthest from the owner and his drafty door) so we could share the blankets and sheet we had brought with us for sleeping in the car.
The next morning we found ourselves at yet another gas station. I have no idea why. We could NOT have been out of gas again. Somewhat rundown, the family who worked the place were all very helpful and friendly. They noted our...accents…and gave us a tip for getting into the city cheaply - park your car in new jersey and commute in on public transit. He gave us a map (key to our hearts), pointed out how to get there (correctly and succinctly), and even a spare NJ Transit card (which ended up only having a dime or so on it). Upon leaving one of us remarked that if we had driven by here at night time we wouldn’t have imagined stopping. And it was true.
Our first stop was the Empire State Building where we met up with a friend of mine who went to college in the basement of the building and therefore could skip the line and go straight to the top, for free, whenever she wanted. After that we walked through Times Square where we were continually accosted by people selling themselves, their product, or their cause. Our Southern Hospitality made us ill prepared for the likes of New York City and we were easy targets. Not even as far as Macy’s, we met Square Free, a rap group or maybe just a rapper and his friends, who literally cornered us at Herald Square and forced his CD, X Marks Da Spot on Laura (you can listen online here, though I never listened to the CD so I can’t give an honest review). Remarkably, she was able to give a genuine smile.
Being so obviously targeted quickly wore through Laura’s hospitality and she started just giving a brisk and emphatic “no” to everyone who came near us. Mostly people wanting to sell us tickets to their club or comedy show. “Sorry, I don’t like comedy” I remember replying to one young man’s frank astonishment. Eventually we came upon someone asking for donations to a children’s orphanage. Laura gave her usual “no” and moved past briskly. Seeing his cause I was going to apologize for what he would obviously interpret as rudeness and not exhaustion, when he threw back his head and spat at her! I was appalled. I had heard that New Yorkers were rude and cold (though once I lived there I had the privilege of learning that is not really the case) but spitting at someone was beyond even my tolerance.
We headed West toward Carnegie Hall and Lincoln Center and were literally ran into by Blake Lively and Leighton Meester. It was a cold day but they were filming a summer scene of Gossip Girl and wearing the typical short sparkly dresses and little else. Crew members were standing just off screen holding open large fluffy coats which they ran into between takes. This was the same time they let passersby continue on their way. Blake ran through her coat to tackle Leighton just as we were walking by, toward Chase Crawfort who was directing the human traffic, and was a meer inch or two from Laura when she stopped, mostly because Laura ducked out of the way at the last minute. We stayed to watch the filming for a while, being jostled by the crowd then forming, and I watched Gossip Girl that year up until the scene we’d seen filmed. We took the last train we could to get back to our car within the $14 time limit and hit the road again.
What any map would suggest but that I had never had the need to grasp before this trip is that Pennsylvania is the Kansas of the Eastern U.S. There is nothing in it and it never ends. Hours into night-time driving Laura burst out singing “we have cabin fever” while motioning her hands like a the puppets. I was unfamiliar with the song or its Muppet context and thought Laura was literally going insane from the drive.
After many minutes of explanation - anything to kill the monotony - I joined in and we happily contented ourselves with the goofiness until we were, we thought, in Ohio, where we promptly found a Walmart parking lot and went to sleep. The next morning upon venturing out we passed a Welcome to Ohio sign and reconsulted the map. We had spent the night in West Virginia and hadn’t even known it- taking our total to 20 states (if you count D.C.)! Luckily my friend in Missouri hadn’t had to act on my “We’re in a walmart parking lot in Ohio” text (someone in my life was pragmatic enough to want at least an approximation of our whereabouts every night) or they’d have never found us!
The next day was a driving day. I know we were determined to stop and get out of the car at least once per state the entire trip and I am sure we did. But mainly we were trying to time our drive through major cities to skip all the Friday rush hours. We failed miserably. Around 9 pm my mom called to ask how my spring break was going, if I liked Huntsville, if Laura and I were having fun. We had expected to get to Kansas City around that time but were currently stuck in traffic in St Louis four hours from her.
We pulled up to my parents’ house around 1:30 am. I remember debating sleeping in the car so as not to wake them. My dad cherishes his sleep and would not be happy to be startled awake at this time. But it came down to this: were we really going to have driven all day and literally sleep in the driveway of my parents’ house, foregoing warm shower, clean beds, and enough space to straighten our legs?
Nope.
At the front door I noticed a light on in the dining room. I knocked. As if it were a perfectly normal time of day to be receiving visitors, without turning on lights inside or out, without even looking through the view box to see who it was, my mom walked to the front door and opened it. I was so shocked I didn’t even say hello, just “why are you opening the door at this time of night?” Upon hearing my voice (she still couldn’t see me, we were still all standing in the dark) my mom gasped and jumped in surprise and quickly flicked on the light. We said hello then and my father’s voice floated down the hallway “who is it?”. He shuffled in, gave Laura and I hugs, and said only “now go to bed”. It was a much more pleasant greeting than I was expecting and we were made no delay in following his orders. We still had the drive back to Waco (via Kansas, God Help Us), but compared to the miles we had traveled our trip was at its end. We were home. We could rest. And set our sights on Seattle for another day.
