So, a couple weeks ago, I visited my friend in Chicago. I live in Kentucky, so it was about a 6.5 hr trip to get there. ...or it would have been, if I hadn't gone the wrong direction for about 20 miles on I-80 and had to stop frequently because I was freaking the fuck out.
See, I grew up in a small town in Illinois. It only has 2500 people in it. There's not even a fucking traffic light; that's how backwater I grew up. I've always tried to be a courteous, responsible driver. I don't really get road rage at all. I thought when I went to college that the town I was in was fucking huge, although, with the campus population, it couldn't have been more than 25000. Then, after college, I moved to Peoria, Illinois to live with my at-the-time girlfriend and now wife. The jump from 25000 to about 200000 people was scary as fuck too. But after we lived there for a while, I just kinda got used to it.
Back to the point - Chicago. There's at least two million motherfuckers there, probably about four million if you count the people who don't fuck moms, but whatever. I went on the fucking worst route possible to get there, spending most of my time on boringass highways in Indiana that went through some big towns. Terre Haute, for example. I may have misspelled that. Whatever.
The entire time I'm driving up there, I'm getting nervous as shit just because I don't know if I can handle driving around in an area so populous. I got so nervous that at one point, I had to pull off into a target to get some food and calm myself down, and I was visibly shaking the whole time I was in there. I have social anxiety disorder, and was quite aware of my shaking, so that didn't really help things at all. By the time I finally got to the cashier with a snickers and a bag of animal crackers, she actually asked me if I was okay. I gave the excuse I was hypoglycemic and needed some sugar badly, and I'm not even sure if that's medically viable, but that was the first thought in my mind and I knew I was never going to see her again, so fuck it.
Then I'm sitting out in my car in this Indiana town trying to open this snickers but fucking can't because my hands are shaking so badly. I've talked before about my general shakiness and it increases when I don't drink because I'm an alcoholic, and by this point it was 4 something in the afternoon, so I don't imagine that made it any better. I just put the fucker in my mouth and ripped the wrapper off with my teeth before biting off about half the motherfucker and trying to relax because... I'm obviously stressed out as shit. I honestly considered turning around and going home because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to take it.
Well, turns out that snickers had some god damned magical shit in it, because the shaking got a lot better. I popped open that bag of animal crackers and started on my way again, occasionally reaching into the bag and munching on them. At this point I would like to add that I drive a manual, and I was in an unfamiliar place, congested with traffic. You can see how this is a bad idea.
I eventually make my way up to I-80 and I start feeling like I'm going to be fine - that is, until I see how many fucking people are on this interstate. To give some idea - approximately three metric fucktons of people. Like I said before - I try to be a responsible driver. I pretty much always go the speed limit, I've never been in an accident that wasn't just light cosmetic damage, always wear my seat belt, etc. So I'm going the speed limit on I-80 and pretty much everyone is zooming past me. I try to keep to the right lane - you know, the slow lane - so people can pass me up and keep going.
I did get a decent amount of honks - I think about seven people honked at me - one dude flipped me off. I'm getting super anxious again, and then I miss my exit to continue on to 294, which is a tollway, and one of the busiest interstates in the Chicago area. After about 20 miles on I-80, I realize my mistake and have to turn around. By this point, I'm a holy fucking mess. I'm shaking so violently, it's getting hard to fucking see straight, and my fingers are getting cramps from holding the steering wheel so tightly.
I somehow find the wherewithal to pick up the directions and look at them while stopped at a traffic light when I'm trying to turn around. Quickly memorize them and then - off I go. Then I look at the clock. It's about 5 something. It's fucking rush hour. I start wigging out even more. But, I have to keep going, so I eventually get to the place I need to go to, and I'm on 294. I don't have I-pass (It's a thing that electronically scans when you go through tollways in Illinois that attaches to your windshield and automatically debits from your account), so I have to go through the cash tolls. I can barely get two dollars in my hand to pay for it each time I go through one. It doesn't cost that much, but at that point, with the shaking, it was a lot easier than finding the appropriate change.
I still get some honks while on 294, but mostly it's just people whizzing by. I'm shaking like someone was electrocuting me. I finally got to my exit, and even though I'm in the suburbs now, I'm so hopped up on the idea of "Holy fuck so many people what the fuck was I thinking and they drive like maniacs" that I'm still just as shaky. I eventually did make it to the apartment complex my friend lives at. I had to stop and call him on the phone though, to find out specifics, because I couldn't find his building, and that was a treat - my shakiness combined with the fact that my cell phone is a small 3x2" piece of shit didn't help. It's an LG Compaq, I think it's called. NEVER GET ONE EVER, but I doubt that's a real worry since I got it like... what, three years ago?
Anyways, I get in touch with my friend and learn another friend's there and to look for him so I know where to go. I eventually find a place to park, and my friend comes up and tries to shake my hand - it's been like 5 years since I've seen this guy - and he gets this weird look on his face. "It feels like I just shook hands with a vibrator, you okay man?"
"NO I'M NOT FUCKING OKAY!"
"Well what's the matter, dude?"
"Just.. fucking.. the ride, I can't take this shit, I'm never driving up here again, if Ken wants to see me again, he better buy a fucking plane ticket"
"Uh, can I help with your stuff?"
See, that's the thing. Dave is fucking awesome. Always extremely courteous, no matter the circumstances. I could nearly cut my dick off trying to fuck a bottle, and he'd offer to hold the towel until the paramedics come. First time I've seen him in five years, still jumps to help. Fucking love that guy. Anyway, I get my shit out of the car and Dave takes my roller suitcase, and I take the bag. When I get in the door, Ken's like - "Dude, are you all right? What the fuck happened, did you get in an accident?"
"No I just.. the.. trip, I can't take 294."
"All right, sit your ass down and calm yourself. You need a beer."
"Actually, I need a cigarette first - I haven't had one for like... 3 hours. That might help."
"Sure."
So I step outside and I have a cigarette. I'm still shaking like crazy. Cigarette doesn't help. Call the wife and tell her I made it. Back inside, Ken's like - "So what game you wanna play first?"
Here's an aside - I've known Ken for over 10 years. Everytime I visit him, we do the same shit - get drunk and play video games. That's the norm, that's what he's used to. I'm still shaking like there's a god damn earthquake happening, and he wants to play games immediately. Can't really blame him - that's what I came to do. I sit down on the couch and he flops an xbox controller into my hands.
Now comes the weird part. After I had that in my hands, I just.. stopped. My shakiness went away almost immediately. I really have no explanation for it. Ken's pointing at the screen and telling me about various games he has pulled up - (Rigged his computer to the xbox to play steam games somehow.) - and.. then it's just.. old times. Dave's having a beer, so's Ken, Ken's girlfriend Kate is doing her own thing on the computer in the background, and we're playing games. Ken opens a beer for me, and I'm playing Shovel Knight, which is FUCKING AMAZING and you should play it, and they're just watching and laughing at the stupid shit that transpires.
I love my friends - obviously, or I wouldn't call them 'friends' - but it's really strange how the sensation of something so familiar can take away the stress and anxiety you feel. And, I really think that's what being friends is all about. You know so much about each other, you're comfortable around them, you can tell them embarrassing shit and they won't laugh (well, Ken usually does but that's beside the point).
I think in my time up there, I drank about 2 fifths and a few beers, and that was in three days, with me arriving at 6-something the first day. Remember - I drink more than fish. Anyways.. the way going back was a lot better, because they helped me plot a course that didn't involve busy roads - I could basically just take I-57 south until I-24, and go home. And on the way back, I thought, "Yeah.. I'd do that again."
See, I grew up in a small town in Illinois. It only has 2500 people in it. There's not even a fucking traffic light; that's how backwater I grew up. I've always tried to be a courteous, responsible driver. I don't really get road rage at all. I thought when I went to college that the town I was in was fucking huge, although, with the campus population, it couldn't have been more than 25000. Then, after college, I moved to Peoria, Illinois to live with my at-the-time girlfriend and now wife. The jump from 25000 to about 200000 people was scary as fuck too. But after we lived there for a while, I just kinda got used to it.
Back to the point - Chicago. There's at least two million motherfuckers there, probably about four million if you count the people who don't fuck moms, but whatever. I went on the fucking worst route possible to get there, spending most of my time on boringass highways in Indiana that went through some big towns. Terre Haute, for example. I may have misspelled that. Whatever.
The entire time I'm driving up there, I'm getting nervous as shit just because I don't know if I can handle driving around in an area so populous. I got so nervous that at one point, I had to pull off into a target to get some food and calm myself down, and I was visibly shaking the whole time I was in there. I have social anxiety disorder, and was quite aware of my shaking, so that didn't really help things at all. By the time I finally got to the cashier with a snickers and a bag of animal crackers, she actually asked me if I was okay. I gave the excuse I was hypoglycemic and needed some sugar badly, and I'm not even sure if that's medically viable, but that was the first thought in my mind and I knew I was never going to see her again, so fuck it.
Then I'm sitting out in my car in this Indiana town trying to open this snickers but fucking can't because my hands are shaking so badly. I've talked before about my general shakiness and it increases when I don't drink because I'm an alcoholic, and by this point it was 4 something in the afternoon, so I don't imagine that made it any better. I just put the fucker in my mouth and ripped the wrapper off with my teeth before biting off about half the motherfucker and trying to relax because... I'm obviously stressed out as shit. I honestly considered turning around and going home because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to take it.
Well, turns out that snickers had some god damned magical shit in it, because the shaking got a lot better. I popped open that bag of animal crackers and started on my way again, occasionally reaching into the bag and munching on them. At this point I would like to add that I drive a manual, and I was in an unfamiliar place, congested with traffic. You can see how this is a bad idea.
I eventually make my way up to I-80 and I start feeling like I'm going to be fine - that is, until I see how many fucking people are on this interstate. To give some idea - approximately three metric fucktons of people. Like I said before - I try to be a responsible driver. I pretty much always go the speed limit, I've never been in an accident that wasn't just light cosmetic damage, always wear my seat belt, etc. So I'm going the speed limit on I-80 and pretty much everyone is zooming past me. I try to keep to the right lane - you know, the slow lane - so people can pass me up and keep going.
I did get a decent amount of honks - I think about seven people honked at me - one dude flipped me off. I'm getting super anxious again, and then I miss my exit to continue on to 294, which is a tollway, and one of the busiest interstates in the Chicago area. After about 20 miles on I-80, I realize my mistake and have to turn around. By this point, I'm a holy fucking mess. I'm shaking so violently, it's getting hard to fucking see straight, and my fingers are getting cramps from holding the steering wheel so tightly.
I somehow find the wherewithal to pick up the directions and look at them while stopped at a traffic light when I'm trying to turn around. Quickly memorize them and then - off I go. Then I look at the clock. It's about 5 something. It's fucking rush hour. I start wigging out even more. But, I have to keep going, so I eventually get to the place I need to go to, and I'm on 294. I don't have I-pass (It's a thing that electronically scans when you go through tollways in Illinois that attaches to your windshield and automatically debits from your account), so I have to go through the cash tolls. I can barely get two dollars in my hand to pay for it each time I go through one. It doesn't cost that much, but at that point, with the shaking, it was a lot easier than finding the appropriate change.
I still get some honks while on 294, but mostly it's just people whizzing by. I'm shaking like someone was electrocuting me. I finally got to my exit, and even though I'm in the suburbs now, I'm so hopped up on the idea of "Holy fuck so many people what the fuck was I thinking and they drive like maniacs" that I'm still just as shaky. I eventually did make it to the apartment complex my friend lives at. I had to stop and call him on the phone though, to find out specifics, because I couldn't find his building, and that was a treat - my shakiness combined with the fact that my cell phone is a small 3x2" piece of shit didn't help. It's an LG Compaq, I think it's called. NEVER GET ONE EVER, but I doubt that's a real worry since I got it like... what, three years ago?
Anyways, I get in touch with my friend and learn another friend's there and to look for him so I know where to go. I eventually find a place to park, and my friend comes up and tries to shake my hand - it's been like 5 years since I've seen this guy - and he gets this weird look on his face. "It feels like I just shook hands with a vibrator, you okay man?"
"NO I'M NOT FUCKING OKAY!"
"Well what's the matter, dude?"
"Just.. fucking.. the ride, I can't take this shit, I'm never driving up here again, if Ken wants to see me again, he better buy a fucking plane ticket"
"Uh, can I help with your stuff?"
See, that's the thing. Dave is fucking awesome. Always extremely courteous, no matter the circumstances. I could nearly cut my dick off trying to fuck a bottle, and he'd offer to hold the towel until the paramedics come. First time I've seen him in five years, still jumps to help. Fucking love that guy. Anyway, I get my shit out of the car and Dave takes my roller suitcase, and I take the bag. When I get in the door, Ken's like - "Dude, are you all right? What the fuck happened, did you get in an accident?"
"No I just.. the.. trip, I can't take 294."
"All right, sit your ass down and calm yourself. You need a beer."
"Actually, I need a cigarette first - I haven't had one for like... 3 hours. That might help."
"Sure."
So I step outside and I have a cigarette. I'm still shaking like crazy. Cigarette doesn't help. Call the wife and tell her I made it. Back inside, Ken's like - "So what game you wanna play first?"
Here's an aside - I've known Ken for over 10 years. Everytime I visit him, we do the same shit - get drunk and play video games. That's the norm, that's what he's used to. I'm still shaking like there's a god damn earthquake happening, and he wants to play games immediately. Can't really blame him - that's what I came to do. I sit down on the couch and he flops an xbox controller into my hands.
Now comes the weird part. After I had that in my hands, I just.. stopped. My shakiness went away almost immediately. I really have no explanation for it. Ken's pointing at the screen and telling me about various games he has pulled up - (Rigged his computer to the xbox to play steam games somehow.) - and.. then it's just.. old times. Dave's having a beer, so's Ken, Ken's girlfriend Kate is doing her own thing on the computer in the background, and we're playing games. Ken opens a beer for me, and I'm playing Shovel Knight, which is FUCKING AMAZING and you should play it, and they're just watching and laughing at the stupid shit that transpires.
I love my friends - obviously, or I wouldn't call them 'friends' - but it's really strange how the sensation of something so familiar can take away the stress and anxiety you feel. And, I really think that's what being friends is all about. You know so much about each other, you're comfortable around them, you can tell them embarrassing shit and they won't laugh (well, Ken usually does but that's beside the point).
I think in my time up there, I drank about 2 fifths and a few beers, and that was in three days, with me arriving at 6-something the first day. Remember - I drink more than fish. Anyways.. the way going back was a lot better, because they helped me plot a course that didn't involve busy roads - I could basically just take I-57 south until I-24, and go home. And on the way back, I thought, "Yeah.. I'd do that again."