Written 12/12/2007
Yo,
A few of my buddies and our dads flew into Chicago and then drove to Green Bay to see a football game. There was an issue…
Unfocused Assessments…
The main character of this story is my old high school chum… Big June. A robust, imposing, chaotic presence… he reminds me of the attorney in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas… I think he’s probably Samoan.
Watching Big June operate once we completely abandoned the travel plan we made with our dad’s… to instead beeline to a White Castle… was a sight to behold.
After a great trip to Lambeau Field, we loaded up our van and began our 3-hour trek back to Chicago O’Hare. Flight takes off at 1:30pm. Tight.
We punched White Castle into GPS – which we had done on every single leg of our journey – but once again it was too far out of our way.
The dads were in the lead van; me, Big June and Ding Dong (all 24 years old) were in the chase van.
We stopped at McDonalds about two hours in… Big June took his 3rd crap of the day… we loaded up on brekkie… then immediately hit some brutal traffic. It was going to be razor-thin to make the flight.
Complicating matters was an unexpected billboard advertising a brand-new White Castle celebrating its grand opening… our GPS hadn’t clocked it.
Big June became very antsy. Darting eyes, fidgety hands and legs… bursts of confused profanity… all while chain smoking cigarettes.
None of us were hungry but White Castle didn’t exist on the West Coast. The movie also had us brainwashed.
The old men were in front of us inching along in traffic.
Big June crept forward as the exit loomed ominously… you could practically see the little angel and devil on his shoulders yelling at each other.
He kept turning and intensely staring at me and Ding Dong like he was trying to read our minds. He knew the stakes… our old men would fucking kill us if we missed the flight.
Having witnessed Big June’s impulsiveness throughout the past decade, no decision this man was capable of would surprise me.
He kept straight as the exit lane on our right became increasingly less accessible. Just as I began to think the angel had won the civil war inside his brain… in a move that can only be described as violent… he flicked his cigarette out the window – jerked the van steering wheel hard … emitted a series of guttural noises from deep inside his body… and completely floored the accelerator towards the exit… narrowly missing a concrete wall in the process.
“Fuck it!!!” … we were getting some GD White Castle!
When he first picked up our van, Big June had theatrically announced his purchase of FULL insurance and drove it like a demolition derby. He described his driving style as… “urban 4-wheeling.”
After careening through a back-and-forth series of yellow and red lights – Big June screeched around a corner and saw White Castle for the first time in his life…. Dead ahead.
“THERE IT IS!!” He bellowed.
500 yards straightaway…. He floored it again… the sudden acceleration sounded like a 1970’s chase scene.
After a single van drag race that desperately needed a parachute in the back to help us slow down… he rounded the drive‑thru corner – pulled up – and shouted “GIMME A 20 SACK!!”
I politely informed everyone that I only wanted 1 slider. Ding Dong said he was going to eat the entire sack.
Big June told the drive‑thru lady we needed “some pop to wash it down.”
“Oh yah?” She replied in a thick Wisconsin accent, “You guys want some Coh-ca Coh-la?”
“Yeah, yeah!” Big June roared, frantic to bolt.
“Get me a diet,” said Ding Dong, complicating things.
“Make one of those a diet model, doncha know,” Big June relayed.
She confirmed.
Big June then floored it to the window, tossed in $23 bucks, shouted “keep the change,” then peeled to the pickup window.
All three of our cell phones hadn’t stopped ringing since our dramatic freeway exit… I could feel my dad attempting to strangle me telepathically.
Nobody answered…
I certainly didn’t trust Big June… but I knew that at the very least… the laws of society would not prevent this beast of a human from doing everything possible to get us on our flight.
Big June was wide eyed and barely breathing as his body and soul anticipated a new ground beef delicacy he had only tasted in his dreams…
The sandwich lady handed him 3 giant sacks and Big June ripped them out of her hands, threw the bags at my chest and peeled out of there like a bank robber.
I thought we were going to die.
He hit the turn and I lost control of one of the bags.
“Just leave it!” He barked.
Sitting shotgun, I started rifling around for a slider as fast as possible, I felt like I was prepping a needle for a heroin addict going through withdrawals.
Once I got a hold of a slider, I looked over to see Big June’s hands were firmly gripping the wheel staring straight ahead as he was flying out of the parking lot. His mouth was wide open… eagerly anticipating me smashing a slider in there.
I then obliged… although no smashing was necessary as Big June has a huge mouth and the full slider fit in perfectly.
I removed my hand as quickly as possible to avoid losing a finger.
Meanwhile we were getting a steady dose of angry glances and middle fingers as Big June navigated.
After finally getting my bearings in order I looked over and noticed Big June’s mouth was wide open again…
All in all, they were a delicious treat… however we remained stuffed silly from earlier.
That meant that every toll booth operator received a sandwich. Passing motorists in traffic were offered sandwiches. A bum in Chicago scored big as well.
As we pulled into the airport we blasted “Going going – back back – to Cali Cali.”
…We barely made our flight.
And that’s that… a little White Castle story for that ass…
My dad didn’t like the White Castle story.
Quackenbush