I love reading the magazines that suggest "bonding trips with your
girlfriends." What's better than getting away, spending the weekend
with your girlfriends at a cozy bed and breakfast, getting massages and
pedis, and drinking martinis?
Two words: spring break.
It's cozy, there's drinking, and someone is sure to give you a massage, invited or not.
However, there are some trips that are unplanned between girlfriends. Some trips that bring them to such exotic locations as Prospect County, Kentucky.
I went to college at Southern Indiana (right on IN/KY border). You can't buy ANY alcohol in Indiana on Sunday. Well, my boyfriend played baseball for college and their tournament had a rain delay, so ended up being on Sunday instead of Saturday. Well they won, and this put them in the NCAA tournament. Naturally, they wanted to party, but they had to take the bus an hour and a half back (they were in Eastern Indiana). So my best friend and I (being nice people) offer to drive to Kentucky (10 minutes away) and get some beer and meet them back at school. At most, we would have added 20 minutes onto our drive, right? WRONG! Keep in mind my best friend was Asian and we were driving a really nice convertible (her dad's) through rural kentucky. We cross the bridge and stop at the first gas station we see.
"Little ladies..yer outta luck here. This here is what we call a dry county," the clerk said as he (I kid you not) cleaned his gun and spat dip on the floor.
"Um, ok, where is the next wet county?" I asked.
"That'd be about a fur piece that-a-way," he said, indicating vaguely in a southern direction.
"Great, do you have a map or wireless so I can mapquest it?" I asked. (This was right before iPhones).
"Yer not from 'round here, are ya? We don't got no maps fer these parts."
(At this moment, the banjos started playing in my head.)
We got back in the car and started driving.
Ten minutes later we lost radio.
Fifteen minutes later we lost cell phone service.
Twenty minutes later, we were officially lost. I saw what looked like a convienence store, so I decided to stop.
"Wait Zoe," said my friend. "You remember in 11th grade when we learned about the KKK?"
"Yeah, our teacher put a pillowcase over his head and that was the lesson."
"This is probably KKK country," she hissed. "They already probably think I'm Mexican, but you look whiter than I do. You go in."
"Fine," I said, pulling into a dirt lot with several Mustangs up on cinder blocks. "But if this is like that movie Wrong Turn and they try to eat me, they're gonna get a whole lot of grissel."
I got out and basically had the same conversation, this time with a woman missing most of her teeth.
"Ya gotta go to Prospect County," she said. Luckily, this store sold Kentucky maps.
By this time, we had been driving over an hour, and still had 40 miles to go. As we approached Prospect County, we got radio. Unfortunately, it was some right-wing evangelist snake handler who made James Dobson look sane.
We finally reached Prospect County and the one store that sold beer. (No wonder people in Kentucky sleep with their siblings- they can't get drunk and there are no other humans there!)
Unfortunately for us, the beer was all in coolers and already cold. We still had two and a half hours to get home and the car was warm. However, I was not ready to drive to Tennessee in our quest, so we loaded up the car with beer, put up the top, and turned on the AC as cold as it would go. (We were in shorts and tank tops).
We finally got cell phone service in the outskirts of Louisville. We each had five messages from the guys asking where we were with the beer. Eventually we told them the story.
It was 5 hours of my life, but a story of a lifetime. And really, who needs a bed and breakfast when there's beer?
Two words: spring break.
It's cozy, there's drinking, and someone is sure to give you a massage, invited or not.
However, there are some trips that are unplanned between girlfriends. Some trips that bring them to such exotic locations as Prospect County, Kentucky.
I went to college at Southern Indiana (right on IN/KY border). You can't buy ANY alcohol in Indiana on Sunday. Well, my boyfriend played baseball for college and their tournament had a rain delay, so ended up being on Sunday instead of Saturday. Well they won, and this put them in the NCAA tournament. Naturally, they wanted to party, but they had to take the bus an hour and a half back (they were in Eastern Indiana). So my best friend and I (being nice people) offer to drive to Kentucky (10 minutes away) and get some beer and meet them back at school. At most, we would have added 20 minutes onto our drive, right? WRONG! Keep in mind my best friend was Asian and we were driving a really nice convertible (her dad's) through rural kentucky. We cross the bridge and stop at the first gas station we see.
"Little ladies..yer outta luck here. This here is what we call a dry county," the clerk said as he (I kid you not) cleaned his gun and spat dip on the floor.
"Um, ok, where is the next wet county?" I asked.
"That'd be about a fur piece that-a-way," he said, indicating vaguely in a southern direction.
"Great, do you have a map or wireless so I can mapquest it?" I asked. (This was right before iPhones).
"Yer not from 'round here, are ya? We don't got no maps fer these parts."
(At this moment, the banjos started playing in my head.)
We got back in the car and started driving.
Ten minutes later we lost radio.
Fifteen minutes later we lost cell phone service.
Twenty minutes later, we were officially lost. I saw what looked like a convienence store, so I decided to stop.
"Wait Zoe," said my friend. "You remember in 11th grade when we learned about the KKK?"
"Yeah, our teacher put a pillowcase over his head and that was the lesson."
"This is probably KKK country," she hissed. "They already probably think I'm Mexican, but you look whiter than I do. You go in."
"Fine," I said, pulling into a dirt lot with several Mustangs up on cinder blocks. "But if this is like that movie Wrong Turn and they try to eat me, they're gonna get a whole lot of grissel."
I got out and basically had the same conversation, this time with a woman missing most of her teeth.
"Ya gotta go to Prospect County," she said. Luckily, this store sold Kentucky maps.
By this time, we had been driving over an hour, and still had 40 miles to go. As we approached Prospect County, we got radio. Unfortunately, it was some right-wing evangelist snake handler who made James Dobson look sane.
We finally reached Prospect County and the one store that sold beer. (No wonder people in Kentucky sleep with their siblings- they can't get drunk and there are no other humans there!)
Unfortunately for us, the beer was all in coolers and already cold. We still had two and a half hours to get home and the car was warm. However, I was not ready to drive to Tennessee in our quest, so we loaded up the car with beer, put up the top, and turned on the AC as cold as it would go. (We were in shorts and tank tops).
We finally got cell phone service in the outskirts of Louisville. We each had five messages from the guys asking where we were with the beer. Eventually we told them the story.
It was 5 hours of my life, but a story of a lifetime. And really, who needs a bed and breakfast when there's beer?
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