Hanging out with Little Joe and Wolfgang is kinda like watching Robin Williams on a talk show. I'm never quite sure what to expect, but I know I'll most likely be entertained. And sometimes scared.
The first weekend of Spring felt like the first weekend of Summer. So LJ, Wolfgang, and I took advantage by heading up to Kinlock Falls Sunday afternoon. Despite temperatures which had been in the 80's seemingly for a week, the water was slightly frigid. I found that out the first time I jumped in, leaving me yelping like a little girl. It was like millions of tiny pin pricks on my delicate, milky white skin. Nature's own little accupuncture therapy, if you will.
As we were leaving, I ran into a girl I knew but couldn't remember her name. (That's not selective memory. That's just bad memory.) We chatted for a few minutes. Meanwhile, LJ had been talking to this guy about the location of another swimming hole, deeper in the forest. We decided we'd look for it.
About a quarter of a mile up the road, I heard a beeping noise, then looked over and said, "Uhh, why does that say low fuel?"
LJ replied, "Oh... uh... I forgot about that. Yeah. We're not going to The Blue Hole today."
So there we were, on a gravel road deep inside the national forest, with LJ's instrument panel reading that we had 27 miles of gas remaining. And I'm estimating it is about 25 miles back to the store. LJ didn't think it was that far and said he was confident we had plenty of gas. Wolfgang and I began to berate LJ. I asked him why he didn't get gas before we left town, especially since I had him stop at a store on the way so that I could get a Mountain Dew!
I should probably mention here that LJ has a history of running out of gas. (And being in wrecks. And staying up for forty-eight straight hours and hallucinating. But those are other stories for another time.) For some illogical reason, he seems to enjoy pushing the limits and seeing just how far his car will go.
I was even riding with him once when, after ignoring my continuous pleas to stop, he ran out of gas in a rather unsavory area of town. In that particular instance, he said not to worry, that the car would restart at least twice after it first ran out of gas. Which would indicate he had done that at least once before. Amazingly enough, it did, and we coasted into the next gas station.
Anyway, back to Sunday. We got back to the store with three miles of gas remaining. Just as we were about to pull in, Wolfgang yelled from the back seat, "Keep going! I want to see how far we could have made it!" Ugh.
They dropped me off at my car. As we pulled back onto the highway, I saw the top start to go up on Little Joe's convertible. He started down the highway with the top standing straight up in the air, almost perfectly vertical. I had no idea what they were doing, but he pulled into someone's driveway. I honked and continued past. My phone rang. It was Wolfgang. I answered but couldn't even manage to say hello. For like twenty seconds, there's nothing but laughter on both ends.
We met back up at LJ's later that night. I walked into the kitchen to get something and noticed three pairs of solid white Reeboks sitting heel-to-toe by the garage door. I nearly pulled out my phone to take a picture. (They were kinda like these except without the navy.) Here were these three pairs of shoes from the 1980's, identical except for the amount of wear.
Does he just keep buying the same style over and over? And if so, where does he still find them? Or did he buy them all in 1989? And why three pairs? Maybe they were the last three pairs ever made, so he wanted to stock up on them. Or maybe he rotates them, like tires, so that they last longer.
So many questions. So few answers...
Again, I never know what to expect, and sometimes I'm scared.
"So put me on a highway, and show me a sign, and take it to the limit one more time..."