Thursday The 18th of November, as I waited very unpatiently for Josephs arrival, I decided I need to just relax and find my Zen place, and calm down. The sun was out and it was like 75 degrees, unlike the majority of the previous days of the weeks I had witnessed. My brother always talked up this island called Emerold Isle which was only a small clip out there, but he said it was his favorite beach to occupy when he had the chance. So I packed my pack with all the things I thought would be neccesary for the small journey. I had to charge up the Ipod battery and I was off to find a sense of peace for that day which was at the moment inexistent in my soul. I hate to say I wasnt peaceful I just wasn't content at this particular moment mostly likely do to the excitement to see lil joey poo.
So I head out with all my gear, the sun shining beautifully, I throw my pack in the van, hop in and crank crank fucking crank!! This fucking piece of shit! This thing is a straight up Relic no shit. So after about a half hr of cycling the key holding the gas pedal down 1/4 way, The bastard coughed like it had tubroculois, ran on 2 cyliders and was ready to go. One amazing point the battery I have in there is something supernatural the thing never dies even after trying to start it for what seems hours sometimes.
At last I'm driving down the fucking road! all i could say was fuck yeah and slam my fist into the fucking roof thinking I got you safari you cant stop me. So on my way I needed a few items, and i stopped into a Food Lion ( what the fuck is a Food lion) I know most of you are asking that right? Its like your Cub or County market a very prominent grocery store chain all over the state of NC and probably a few more states. A fucking Food Lion GRRooowwwlll purr scratch I mean I assume thats what a food lion would do. So very timidly i get out of the van saying a few words of wisdom to it about what i would do to it if it wasnt runny when i got out of the store. No way in hell i was going to shut that POS off while i ran inside. quick thing of H20 and a disposable camera and I was off to the races.
So as I appourch the island I see this massive structure, Its the Bridge that connects the main land to the island. This thing is like a damn roller coaster. Its about 60-80 ft tall and streched about a mile maybe even a little longer over this inlet of water! As I crossed over it, hanging my head out the window like a tourist with my 6 dollar disposable trying to snap pics of these massive sailboats, I had a surge of emotion and mixed feelings. At first I was totally amazed, but as I neared the top a sense of complete and utter vulnaribilty of being so high and in the middle of this inlet I was overwelmed with the thought that I had no control of the elements that surrounded me the visual flash of being swept away kept rushing into my brain. This feeling never left my mind as I was on the island. It calmed down as soon as I drove off the bridge but the thoughts polluted my feelings the whole time I was there. To give you a idea of the islands landscape very long and narrow with the view of the ocean on both sides as you drive awww maybe im a big titbaby but i just felt like i was going to be swept away and swallowed by the water. I was there and I couldnt go back I had to find what was unknown at that moment at this place on this land. no way was I going to leave with curiousity and question. I was dying to get out and walk on the beach but I had to drive til I couldnt, Im glad I did because once I got to Atlantic Beach which is the farthest piont away from were I started, I felt a great understanding, and a strong respect for the island and the people there that call this their home.
I turned around and followed my brothers expriectice and went to his favorite beach INDIAN BEACH. I find a vacant public access to park and I reluctenly shut the van off and grabbed my pack, and then I was off in search of the feeling of serenity and relaxation I longed for. I threw in the ear phones and started playing O.A.R., a band that is comforting to me and has a great back sound for any occasion. TO my astonishment It didnt take long for my senses of sight sound and smell to combine together to give me the inner peace I was looking for on this island. As the birds chased the waves that rolled in and out in search of food and as the sun kept reflecting off the water with never the same flicker with each new wave that rolled in. That overwelming euphoric felling flooded my soul and as the goosebumps raised on my arms I knew I had found what I was looking for on that day. That feeling that is so individualistic to each person- that feeling that no drug Ive ever taken could imitate- The feeling of contentment I search for and yearn for, that comes and goes with each moment of my life. That dragon I have been chasing my whole life and trying to contain it, and implement it on a continuious basis.
As I walked I pondered the idea, wondering, is there really just one thing I will find that gives peace and contentment and happiness? I started to relize the multi layers of happiness, and for me it probably wont be just one thing I will be searching for forever.
At this point I felt like leaving and finding a local seafood shop for oysters, at another one of my brothers recomendations, I head back to Jacksonville and find the shop i was looking for. I go in and buy a bucket of oysters or so, and a lil bit of shrimp, It was justa bout the right time when my brother gets home, and surely I would need help in preparing these tasty little treats. I get back with this box of tasty nuggets covered in ocean sediment like a kid with a new bike! I hastily open the box and start to rinse them off, one by one in preparation for opening our little treasures of goodness. As we begin rinsing and stacking and cracking them, perspriration is gathering and saturating my clothes. Oysters are a lot of work, more work then I thought they would be- which during the preparation its kinda discouraging because you just want to eat them, but it was so worth the wait. After they were all cracked and our tipelo( mexican tabasco), and our lemon wedges in place- we start to devour them one by one, as we scrap and slurp down these buggery treats with excitment. we oohed and aahed about how fresh and wonderful they are.
In about the time it took to rinse them (not crack them) they were gone, and all that remained was a heep of shells. my brother and I just laughed about it and carried on with are night, but as it got later and my face started to feel warm I realized these things are like crack! I was so hopped up! It was virtually impossible to sleep.
Now I might have thought it was just me, but as I I started to vacum the living room and wash the dishes at 11 at night, I watched my brother chat on facebook to like 5 people, while texting someone franticly. We both just looked up at each other and said, what the hell- we can't sleep as much as he needed to, being that he gets up at as early as 4:30, and we knew that just wasnt going to happen. So instead of lying down and staring at the damn ceiling all night, we decided to go to the strip club and play some pool.
To my surprise I got a phone call from Josephine telling me he was flying to charlotte, and he will be arriving at noon tomorow or today how ever you want to look at it. I was delighted. At this point I felt like I had options for how I was going to execute the pick up of my fellow traveing comrade.
A: I go home and lye in bed, hoping the oysters will wear off so I can sleep for a few hrs til 6am and then take off to charlotte- since it is a 5 and a half hr drive. or,
B: Use this amazing oyster buzz that I have, to get me there by 6am and just sleep in a parking lot or find a nice rest stop to sleep.
So I decide to go with plan B. We leave the strip club and make our way back to the house so I could put together a pack for my short journey to chartown. I throw some shit together as my brother makes me a half gallon of coffee for back up awarness (just in case the oysters wore off).
I take off like a flash with the coffee to my right, the pack in the back, and a freshly lit camel in my lips! I make it about 100 miles before the oysters euphoria is starting to diminish- so I start downing coffee like a meth head in rehab. I slam the first 1 liter dasani water bottle of coffee in a almost contunious motion, all the while thinking- 'should I of just waited til morning?' That wasnt enough coffee, so I grab the 2nd bottle and down that as well. I make it like another 100 miles, and at this point I have just filled both of the dasaani bottles back up with piss, when all of a sudden the oysters shrimp and coffee start to have a massive chemical reaction in my stomach cavity.
Now I can't tell you if I was dilurious, caffeine crazy, or just wanted to get to charlotte that bad- but with this atomic bomb brewing, I flipped the dome light on in search for something I might be able to use as a diaper, or a bedpan so I could keep driving. To my dismay at the moment, there was nothing of resources I could find to use as an apparatice to catch this vile sludge that would be departing my colon at any moment maybe without notice. As I kept driving- stratgically farting to cope and relieve the tremendish side pains of this dyer situation, I saw that to my good fortune, 2 miles away, a rest stop!
At this moment the sign looked like 20 miles away with the wrenching of side pains, and no more farts to be let out when all my bodies cavitys are full with fluids that are screaming at me to be released. I put the gas pedal down to the floor at the attempt to save my underwear and propably my drivers seat cloth, 1&1/2 mile sign 1 mile sign 3/4 miles It seemed like the D.O.T. was playing a cruel joke on me to keep reminding me of the distance I was from the rest stop. Finally, as I fly into the parking lot I thought to my self, acutually talking out loud to myself at this point, I had to vurabally motivate and continue to tell my self I was going to make it.
I find a spot- luckily up front- because I knew that every step counted with dyer consquences. I hopped out the van, and waddled as fast as I was willing to risk- undoing my belt at the entrance, pulling my pants down at the mens room door, and had them around my ankles at the stall door. Before my ass cheeks hit the seat, a stream of split pea colored, sand textured stool streamed into the water splashing my ass like i had dropped a 4lb weight right into the toilet bowl, but I didnt care, I made it without even a 1/2 second to spare. As I sat there having a bowel moving orgasm, all I could do was smile and a knock knock with my closed fist on the plastic tiolet paper dispenser as thank you for this so near shiting your pants experiance that I escaped.
I felt tremendeshly lucky, and it was about 430 am friday morning. I was still 90 miles from chartown, why risk it? with a dilurious mind, and hullucanating visuals- I thought I better just get some sleep. I spent the next 5 hours sleeping at this rest stop oasis, and I had a great sense of gratitude for making it safe without any inconviences like shitting or pissing my my pants on the freeway. I rested up and started driving again so I make it to chartown at like 10:30, and then I found a lowes parking lot to kill some time in, and I crawled into the back of the van once more for a small catnap. Just like clockwork, joe arrives at the airport at just the same time as I pull in to the parking ramp. Mission accomplished: operation pickup joseph is complete. Now, off to see the city.