my baby does the hanky panky

It was already middle of the night dark when we left at 8:30. Paul was coming off a seven hour drive back from Chicago. His band had played there the night before. Thanks to either his youth or his rock n roll cowboy-ness, he was ready for the first leg of our twenty four hour drive after a bathroom break and a spring roll.

I had recently come into the habit of saying “lest” and “it’s all good” far far too much. Lest as in: “We should turn the lights off lest the aliens find us.” And it’s all good as in: “The truck won’t fit all my stuff. No worries. It’s all good.” I found that my use of the later phrase actually meant that it was NOT all good. In fact, it usually meant that it was quite terrible and I had no idea how to remedy the situation. My only rule for the drive was to be pinched in the arm whenever I said either of those two phrases. Paul obliged. I think it was an “it’s all good” that led to laying my arm down on the pillow between us for the requisite pinch and instead got a much anticipated hand hold. Paul and I had developed this strange and fast friendship over the past month or so and my crush on him had started to polka dot my thoughts after the whole Scooby Doo Incident. It was nice to have butterflies again.

We drove through Minnesota without much problem. I drove first and he tried to sleep a little to ready himself for his turn. We talked a lot, listened to some music, tried to figure out an Encyclopedia Brown mystery or two and went through half a book of Would You Rather questions. For the record, Paul would rather forever have to speak in the style, accent, and intensity of Hitler whenever talking to members of the opposite sex rather than having to take all his meals in a hockey net. I can’t say I'd pick the same.

North Dakota tried to give us a hard time. The darkness was so dark that I got a little edgy. It was all horror movie and Bela Lugosi. There was a thick layer of clouds so no moonlight was peeking through and the sky was starless. Lots of times we were the only car on the road, no one ahead of us, the side mirrors only showing black for what was behind us. No street lights. We each tired to sleep. Paul successfully, me not so. I opted for a few No-Doze pills purchased from the Fergus Falls, MN Kum and Go. Seriously, the Kum and Go. Ha! Just before dawn and just before hitting Montana, it started sleeting and the roads got icy really fast. We pulled off to the side and decided to give it a half hour for the sun to come up. Thanks to the No Doze, I was wide awake and anxious. Paul fell asleep with his head in my lap.

After 30 minutes it was still sleeting, although with the sun up, it was easier to deal with. Paul offered to drive and we decided we’d just get into Montana and find a place to stay. Glendive was the first city we found, about 40 miles past the North Dakota border. We wound up at the Super 8 and fell asleep within 30 seconds of our heads hitting the pillows. In my newly acquired insomniac style, I woke up much before the 1pm alarm. I quietly snuck out of the room and used the phone in the lobby to check in with everyone and reschedule the movers. We had decided to add a day onto the drive in order to miss a storm that would surely have made driving the curvy mountain passes pretty scary at night. Which my mom, especially, was very happy to hear due to her constant Weather Channel viewing that day. I spent the rest of the morning at the town diner across from the hotel. I wrote some haiku and ate some scrambled eggs.

smell of scrambled eggs
and perfectly coiffed gray hair
breakfast served all day

the first day of spring
landscapes, more gray than golden
big sky Montana

an hour ‘til one
his hair splayed over pillows
me, writing haiku

five foot two feet of
pure glamour grandma spunky
lipsticked coffee cup

I snuck back into bed and tried to get in another hour of sleep before the alarm would sound. Paul and I were both smelly and the room had rocketed to about 200 degrees thanks to the heater kicking in but never off. We had dubbed it the Tour of Sketchy Hygene somewhere along the way. I settled back in and wished I was brave enough to grab his hand, but fell asleep without much worry about it. When the alarm did go off though, he grabbed mine. We curled up together and whispered our days itinerary which only consisted of for sure driving to Butte and if the weather was alright, trying to get to Bozeman. With bad breath and all, we kissed for the first time then found some toothpaste and got back in the truck for part two of the drive.