Caught the Red Eye

Usually, when people catch the "red eye", it's an overnight flight. For us, it's an overnight drive. What kinda crazy shit is that? Well, I like to live on the dangerous side of life. Plus, there's nothing like coming home from a long trip and sleeping into the early afternoon like today. Good thing I have the day off from work, or else I'd be in a bit of a bind. So, how did this "red eye" car ride come about? Well, I'll tell you.

After being released from the cubicle prison on Friday, the wife and I took a 6 hour car ride up to Sacramento to visit a very good friend of mine and check out the area. Recently, there's been talk about moving up there, greener pastures, better opportunities, you know the deal. We wanted to check out the area he lived in, just to make sure that the sweet job he told me about would be found in an equally sweet area. Our suspicions were confirmed as we were shown around the town of Elk Grove just south of Sacramento. Very quaint, quiet . . . a total 180 degree turn from what Los Angeles is. I think when we move there by the end of the year, it will impact our lives quite a bit, in an extremely positive way.

So, that's that . . Come Sunday night, we felt ready to leave the area, antsy to get back to our bed and away from my friend's couch bed. Not that we didn't appreciate his hospitality, it's just kind of hard to sleep with a metal beam right on the small of your back. Not sure if anyone that reads this has had the extreme displeasure of sleeping on one of those torture devices . . .but the 2nd night there, we preferred sleeping on couch cushions layed out on the floor rather than on that terribly uncomfortable piece of "furniture".

Around 12:30 AM, Monday morning, we decided to hit the road. The car had developed an uncomfortable knocking sound that was, at the time, most likely emanating from the drive train . . but I ain't no mechanic, so my diagnosis is not to be taken without a grain of salt. We stopped to refuel right before we got on the I-5 going south to load up on coffee and snacks. I chose to start the drive with 24 ounces of fresh java . . . nice and hot, and overflowing with caffeine. I was going to need it, since our ride has a manual transmission, and Heather does not know how to drive it.

At about hour 3 of the trip down, feeling kinda sleepy, I decided to pull over into this hole in the wall town that was all gasoline stations and fast food restaurants. I splashed some water on my face, got another 24 ounces of coffee, and made one of the worst decisions of the whole entire trip. We got ourselves a frosty from the Wendy's attached to the gas station. Now, usually . . getting a frosty is a pleasurable experience . . . and we're talking sexual euphamism here as well . . . the process of getting this particular frozen dessert was extremely painful. First of all, there were only 2 employees present, one that spoke english, and one that didn't. Guess which one was the lazy one? Yeah, english speaking whore was the one sitting in the restaurant part, doing absolutely jack shit about extending some customer service. Non-speaking moustached idiot female employee who did not speak a lick of english was (wo)manning the counter. I must have tried 10 times to explain to her that I wanted a medium frosty. Nothing, she kept calling to the other lardass bitch to come over, and she eventually, and reluctantly, decided to earn her minimum wage. She slothfully came around and took our order. Then, we sat around for 10 minutes waiting for this simple "pull a lever and dispense frozen dessert" process.

Only when I was forced to raise my voice (which never happens, I'm a very calm and reserved individual most of the time) at these idiots did they decide to jump to work. English speaking idiot thought that I had said "Medium Fries" . . . how she got that is besides my realm of comprehension. All I have to say is . . . ever since Dave Thomas kicked the bucket, Wendy's has been in a steady decline. Too bad, I used to like eating there on occassion. Anyway, pissed off and tired, I tell English speaking whore "Can I get my money back, I just want to get the hell out of here" . . and do you know what she said? "No". What??!! I once had to send back a bad salad at which the manager of the Burbank Wendy's promptly produced a five dollar bill for and said "I'm sorry it was not to your liking, here's the money back" and this bitch just denied me a refund for a purchase that had not been yet delivered to me?? And then I said "well, you idiots are taking way too long getting my goddamn frosty" and she says "Oh, well, I thought you said fries, so she's making them now". I retort with "Well, even if I had said fries, does it take 10 minutes to make fries? I just want some goddamn service here". 30 seconds later, the frosty was in my hand, and as we left, Heather spat twice . . not just once, twice at what ever papers the fat bitch was working on in the restaurant part of the Wendy's.

Incredible, yes . . . but it did help me wake up. I was too infuriated about that whole process to feel sleepy at all. That, and I noticed we were only 140 miles away from Los Angeles. Less than 2 hours of travel . . at the current rate of speed that I was doing (about 95 - 100 mph) which, by the way, must have knocked whatever was wrong with my car back into place. The knocking sound the car was making disappeared after that stop. Very weird, I know, but I'm glad it's not so prevalent, it seems to rear it's ugly head whenever I make a slight right turn.

We arrived in the Los Angeles area at around 5:45 AM, which is just over 5 hours. Damn excellent time if i do say so myself. Shaved a whole hour from the trip up, and we even made it out here alive. Never underestimate the power of 48 ounces of coffee. And, if you're ever traveling on the I-5 between Los Angeles and Sacramento, and stop at the Pilot gas station with the Wendy's attached to it, make sure to never ever ever order anything from there. For curiosity's sake, you might want to go in there and point and stare at the superbly terrible customer service they offer. And feel free to spit on them. Tell them Jaime sent you.

*Music I listed to while coming up with this entry:
Pulp Song - Stellastarr
Rebellion (Lies) - The Arcade Fire
Bittersweet Symphony - The Verve
Radio War - Iron and Wine
The Battle for Straight Time - A.C. Newman
Moody Monday - Damien Rice
Goodnight Moon - Shivaree
Road to Joy - Bright Eyes
Talking Shit About A Pretty Sunset - Modest Mouse
Recycled Air - The Postal Service
Bartender and the Thief - Stereophonics
One - Aimee Mann