Trip with My Dad (Fear and Loathing in Texas)

It started as a joke. You know the song by Dada, “Trip with my Dad“? Well, mine, dad that is, has been trying to get me to live the damn song for as long as I’ve been able to drink. Oh, wait, officially, that was only a year ago, but there it is. Anyway, we started chatting about it today and I started feeling anxious. He was serious.

Sure, we shared a love of all things Fear and Loathing, but when my dad started asking about cars and chemistry, I knew things were going to get scary. I mean, thrilling. Not always the same thing.

First, we needed a car. We had a destination. We had a common cause. What else was required?

Second, we need a 24-hour period of acceleration.

Finally, we need a way to capture all of it. Not just the words and images and songs we’re listening to. I’m taking every single second of this trip.

That’s where Aaron comes in. He’s not like part of the story. He’s the capture guy in the back seat. Sure, when we uncorked the homemade ether, he was also the beneficiary. Until he started seeing the fucking bats. That part almost lost our entire crew and Aaron began to thrash in the backseat and pull on the door handle to get out. We were going 110 mp on the crappy road to Dallas from Austin. The pedal was down. Dad’s radar detector was silent. And the road ahead was going to be stupid wild fun crack.

Like I said, we’ve talked about HS over the years. One of the best books Dad actually turned me on to. Well, Catcher is probably my favorite book, and he pushes that one on me still, but I had to read it for high school. I think I read Hunter S on no prompt from anyone. I wasn’t a Depp fan. I am now. And no, I hear you getting ready to ask if I’ve seen or read Rum Diaries. I have not. Fk you Dad, get out of my story.

Aaron was the loose end of this whole deal. We didn’t really know the poor kid. He was moving down to Plano, just outside of Dallas in the wrong direction, to get out of his hometown. That’s it. That was his plan. And somehow he ran into me. Fat chance that happening without the magic of gaming on the internet. He was pale and weedy. He could hold an iPhone and mini-disc recorder as well as anyone.

So, here’s the plan… (next story in progress)

Read more Short-Short Stories from John.