While I normally never make plans during Memorial Day Weekend, due to the crowds and historically poor weather, I made the rookie decision to run down to the NJ shore to cop a tan con mi novia. Am status decision #2, I thought that I might hop onto the Brooklyn-Queens Expwy to the Verrazano Bridge then drive into NJ through Staten Island.
Normally, we New Yorkas blast on Staten Islanders like it's the borough in that 28 Days Later flick. All are infected by NY Dump sewage water and are straight retarded for forever Vinnys. Not sure what possessed me to decide to take that route, but we were fucked like Abner Louima.
Anyways, there was hella rush hour traffic, a grip of holiday traffic, and always pleasant 9 dollar toll just to get through to NJ. Just short of losing my shit and the car blowing up from running on an empty tank, we finally made it to a NJ rest stop. Gassed up quick then rolled inside for some well earned pee breaks after 3 hours of traffic. We grabbed some ice creamed treats for the slow walk back to the whip.
However, our glowing smiles were cut short after realizing my already stressed car didn't feel like starting. Panic Room set in as I wondered if we were really going to spend the day stuck @ a fucking rest stop. Sweat poured, many many calls were made and after about an hour of ghetto wiring, my car finally started. Phew. Fucking Japanese ZeroSports push button start. Fucking a hundred dollars worth of JDM nonsense. Gotta have it though.
We rushed to beach which was only about 15miles from where we were to jump in the ocean and wash away a day's worth of aggravation and butt sweat. I still think we were being punished after clowning the midget gas attendant. Karma's a bitch.
At the halfway mark, I'm praying the rest of the weekend to be uneventful aside from an unprecedented caloric attack from burned meat and ketchup.
