The Jersey Devil Poisoned My Coffee

That would be a strange title if you didn't take the trip with me. The trip that took me through more states that I have ever been in. In my entire life. Total states driven through? Virginia, Maryland, New York, Connecticut, Delaware, New Jersey, Pennsylvania. 7 states. Count that, 7. No wonder my ankles look like I cut them open and stuffed two giant softballs inside. (Yes, melty, I have water right beside me.)

I started the trip at 8am on Thursday when I boarded the train from home up to my friend "Rosalies" house. Yes, Rosalie is an assumed name. If you know me, you know her real name. And the loves I have for her. She is my sister wife. Though whether she is married to Matt, or me to her Emmett, we have yet to decide.

I finally got to her place around 5pm, and we were on the road to visit our friend by 6pm. This is where the adventure really began. And by the way? Jersey is full of freaking weirdos. No offense to my Fearless Leader Cheeky.

When we got into Jersey, we realized we were tired. It was around 11pm at this time, so we stopped for coffee at Dunkin Donuts. There is no better coffee than DD, but for some reason, this time it was awful. After a few sips, we realized we couldn't really drink it. We were also out of gas, so we headed back up the street to get gas.

The first thing you should know is that in Jersey, it's against the law to pump your own gas. Which is what led to our first encounter of the fucked up kind. While we waited for the attendant to come over and help us, we looked at each other and realized we really had no idea what we were supposed to do. Luckily, the attendant seemed willing to help us along, took my card, and then asked us where we were from. It seemed an innocent enough question, so we told him. To which he asked where we were going. Still innocent, we told him.

Then, our little gas station man asked us WHY we were going to Connecticut. Rose and I looked at each other, kind of laughing and startled, explained that our friend was getting a divorce, and we were going to be with her. Now this is where the conversation took a different turn...

"why she get a divorce?" (and before we could answer) "Oh? he has little dick? She need a big black dick."

Wait, what???!!! Did he just say what I think he said? Oh, yeah. He did. And then proceeded to tell us about this woman that wasn't happy with his dick, said it was too small. Though, he assured us he was hung. We didn't know what to do, he still had my credit card!

Finally we got away from the gas station attendant and back on the road. Following the directions that Rose printed out from Google Maps. We were driving down a dark tree filled back road. You know, that spooky road from all of those horror movies? It's at this point that Rose mentions the Jersey Devil. And suddenly the one street light right in front of us goes out. And we are driving alone, down a dark deserted road.

We get back to civilization, we stop at a hotel, that happens to have a club connected to it. See, we realize that our directions make no sense what so ever. This leads to our strange jersey encounter #3 (the chasing from the Jersey Devil being number 2). The Angry Hotel Night Manager. The dude who angrily tore up Roses directions. Why? Because they made him Angry. And when I say Angry, I mean ANGRY. After listening to him rant and rave about the internet maps, GPS, and pure human stupidity, he gives up his directions to get to where we need to be.

At this point, Rose and I switch driving. My stomach is churning, but I chalk it up to being nervous. We nervously exchange the idea that he is leading us down a path to have us killed, such as in a Rob Zombie movie, and move forward. Only to find ourselves even more confused than ever, because we wind up on an interstate that was never mentioned. So, we pull of to another gas station.

We both walk in, as this seems to be a seedy kind of station. As we do, a couple of construction workers from up on the interstate walk in as well. Rose asks the gas attendant for help on the directions, and he points to the maps and goes "there's the maps". What???!!!! Really? Thanks for the help asshole. It's at this point you here one of the construction workers sigh, and step up to help us. He was awesome, and I felt awful for thinking bad thoughts.

We get back on the road, and this leads to the Tappan Zee bridge. Only a super high bridge that anyone who knows me knows would freak me the hell out. I mean, you have to drive UP the bridge. I did it though. With minimal hyperventilation. Which I later realized was because I didn't realize how high this bridge really is. I looked it up today. And am now hyperventilating over my awesomeness.

But, remember how I mentioned my queasy stomach? I had to pull over. At the same time, Rose mentioned her stomach was acting up too. Apparently the Jersey Devil works at Dunkin Donuts and poisoned our coffee. Which would explain why he didn't' speak. We switch drivers, and finally we arrive in Connecticut, hours later than planned.

It's after midnight here, so the actual meetup and crime scene in the Bronx will have to wait until later.