The Night We Almost Died

Tenacious LSD and I hung out tonight.  He picked me up in his new car, which is a burgandy Oldsmobile (you know the type: for a decade it was lovingly cared for by some little old man or lady who only used it for groceries and polished it in the meantime with a diaper) that looked and drove like a steamship.  He'd named it the S.S. Shagatsea after Michael Caine's boat in Austin Powers and to be frank, I thought it fit wonderfully.  We spent the evening making maritime jokes at its expense, but it didn't complain.  Permission to come aboard, Captain; I give it a week before you've got barnacles.

The night started out cool enough; we decided long ago to rock the Chiles' and get some chicken nachos which weren't on the menu but they'd make because if you ordered it, they knew you were hardcore Chiles' enthusiests who were around before they changed the menu, so "forget them" and make us some blasted nachos before you lose your tip for seating us in the tiny bar booths.

Afterwards we chose to get to a bowling alley to play some pool or actually bowl.  We launched The Boat on the highway and I called my father to make sure we were going to right direction and were actually on the right road.  Turns out we had to hang a U-turn and then negotiate "The Whiparound", but it was in the middle of this conversation with my father that TenLSD decided to take matters into his own hands and make the U-ie.  But the place he chose to turn around happened to be separated after a point from the main highway by a concrete median.  My phone conversation went as thus:

Me: (On phone with Father who does not approve of cursing, swearing, or being out late on a school night) "Ok, so we just have to turn around?  TenLSD, find a place to turn around."

Father: (On phone) "And then just drive for awhile until you can do that overpass and get on the other side of the highway..."

Me:  "Yeah, yeah, the Whiparound.  We'll do thatOH MY GOD!  GET OVER!  GET OVER!  SHIT!  FUCK!  FUCK!"

TenLSD:  "Sorry!  Sorry!  I didn't see it!  Oh my god!"

Me:  *Covers eyes with hands, makes lighting-quick peace with God*

The Boat:  *jumps the median, pulls into a side street where we can turn the U-ie*

Me:  "Dad?  Dad, hello?"

Father:  (After a deathly long pause) "Yes?  I'm still here."

Me:  "Ok, sorry about that.  We just almost died.  If I don't get home, my sister can have my room."

Father:  "That warms my heart, Michelle.  Don't talk like that."

I hang up and we proceed to try to find the bowling alley, unable to negotiate even a few miles without making a wrong turn and having to drive about a mile out of the way to find a place to turn around.  This happens twice on the way to the bowling alley and twice on the way home. 

TenLSD's precursory to each of these home-bound turns was "Yeah, I know the way to your house from here."

Five miles later: Me: "We need to turn around."

TenLSD:  "Yeah.  I thought about that."

Me:  "We're going to die."  *begins to laugh uncontrolably*

TenLSD:  "No!  No, you can't do that.  If you start crying, I'm going to cry!"

Eventually, with the successful docking in my driveway, the night was over and I stumbled laughing (half in hilarity, half in grateful thanks that my brains weren't strawberry-milkshaked all over the highway) into my house and tried to face my father after the conversation we'd had earlier that night.  Turns out, he didn't think much of it.

I have either a very trusting or very uncaring family.