DOWN THE ROAD: A NEW ADVENTURE
Subtitled: How to molest yourself in this modern age
CHAPTER ONE
Visiting the Road Map at a half past one
May 30th, 1988 ---
Dear Diary, I wanted to begin a diary back then, when the stories were still fresh and I was younger, more innocent, but it wasn't the 'manly' thing to do, so I put it off till now, after my manliness has left me for a woman of 23.
I wasn't a lover or a fighter back then or even now, just some kid, in a world, trying to discover myself and finding out that the adventure in finding yourself was the true meaning of the entire trip and the causalities were just the price those blades of grass paid for us taking those pisses on the side of the road.
No one was hurt in these adventures; except for maybe Julie.
And Wayne, but he wouldn't die until much later and at the hands of cancer after smoking for 30 years.
He lived a pretty swell life so don't feel too sad about him; his wife didn't.
She was the benefactor of his life insurance policy.
Half a million bucks.
Don't think he was worth two cents to be truthfully honest.
May, 1988 --- the first day of the summer vacation, end of our junior year of high school; a place we thought would never end; but when it did, and a few billion miles would travel away from it, we missed sorely until the reunions when we discovered we didn't really miss the people that much.
We would begin a road trip; to the great unknown, only broken up by causal reflections of our sexual misadventures (which beyond seeing and touching Julie's boobs, I had none but had enough of an imagination to make it seem like I had stuck my penis into more than just a gym sock in my bedroom. Oh how I remember the curves of Ms. June 1982, her legs softly encased in black stockings, her hairless mound...anyways, moving on!), drinking beers that Wayne's older brother Mike had bought for us, for the price of joining us on the adventure.
"I ain't got nothing planned for this summer!" he said that day as he packed the back of the vehicle with the beer and other supplies.
Wayne was my best friend; the guy who was there when I lost some of my teeth in a fight with Johnny Smalls.
I had broken Johnny's nose and some of his ribs.
Also joining the trip was our friend Sam; who was known as "Brutus" because he was a brute.
He was good to have along if we needed to change a tire or needed to fight off a grizzly bear.
Of course, Mike was there, as I've already stated.
He'd come in handy when we needed beer resupplied.
Mike's friend, Jacob Malone, joined us because college was making him hate life and why not, might be fun to see some kids get eaten by a grizzly bear at some point.
The sky was a dirty yellow; the hills around the town ruined by years of industrial molestation of the environment, brought on by greed, shit, and a man named Harold who had two left feet and smelled of rotting flesh.
We were young; childish, free, three months of freedom from that life of educational pursuit known as high school and Wayne's dad, a used car salesman for a company "Down on the Flats", had gotten him a car, a real life car.
We had $1200 between us, gathered from odd jobs, selling blood and sperm to research companies up the hill in the bigger cities that weren't our hometowns, John had sold a few things outlawed by the "worthless system that needed to be brought down and burned!!" that we won't discuss here and decided for our last summer as mere children, we would hit the road, to see what kind of trouble we could find a 1000 miles or so from home.
We threw in a tent and such to save on lodging.
And beer.
Tons of beer and whiskey, for we didn't want to get thirsty on our way to Ohio.
Or China.
"Have you ever been molested by a man dressed as a cheese burger?" my mom, distinctly off her medication yelled from the front porch as we pulled away and hit the road.
I had but didn't want to discuss it with my friends who looked at me strangely and I blushed, remembering that one time at band camp.
We made it to mile marker 17 before someone cried out, "I gotta pee!" so we pulled off to the side of the road and peed off into the greening grass.
"Remember Julie?" Wayne asked, holding his cock at half pass noon.
I shrugged. I had remembered her, junior high school, my first boob show, only cost me $3.87 to see them.
"She died..."
"What?"
"Car crash, going up the hill over by Clint's grandparent's place. Head on, straight into a truck!"
The pace of the story was bringing down the mood.
I zipped up my pants and headed back to the car, the rest of the group crowded in.
"Man, life is too short, what we going to do now?" Wayne asked, pulling the car back onto the road.
We all agreed not to die in a head on collision with a truck.
