Most regular readers know that I've left the Williamsburg area in search of younger neighbors, better weather, and semi-legal marijuana. After months of planning, plotting, and stewing, Caitlin and I finally got our act together and left our parents' homes in Richmond, where we'd spent the last week packing. Today was the beginning of our odyssey, and damn if I haven't been stressin' hard since I woke up this morning.
Of course, the very first thing was one of the worst: I had to pare down all my shit into a pile that would only take up half of a Honda Fit. For those that don't know, Fits hold a little less than those expandable cheek pouches that chipmunks have. The upshot of this is that I'm moving 3,000 miles away from home with just a Hershey's Kiss, a thumbtack, and two smallish acorns. It's not much, but it's a brighter future than dying of Williamsburg.
Second up, I had to pack all my bikes into boxes, and of course I scratched the fuck out of them in the process. As I told Caitlin while I crammed wheels down on top of my road bike, jamming the axles into the downtube: "These carbon things are, like, dirty-dirt cheap, you know." Sweet.
And the crown jewel, besides the fact that I have now seen EVERY INCH OF INTERSTATE IN VIRGINIA, is that the Hampton Inn discount for USA Cycling members, while still better than the AAA discount, is still bogus as hell. So, we picked out this cool place with a bell, the name is Mexican for "this place is tha shit"-- La Shinta. It turns out that they mean that it's full of shinta. When we rolled up, either Bristol (home of the Bristol Speedway YEEHAW), or just this hotel, totally reeks of La Shinta. Then, after I use the Cobra Clutch to defeat an army of hillbilly rugrats blocking our door, we find out that they were just finishing cleaning out our hovel. Our housekeeping staff person, Floshinta, was busy puking in the shintter, and her copious vomitus was showering over a rat in the bowl, who was trying to nibble the Shinta left by the previous guest back in May.
I told her it was cool, because I usually make Shinta in the shower, anyways, and just use the water pressure to wipe my la sphincta. Even so, the manager told us we could ring the bell whenever we wanted, as a peace offering. Turns out, the only bell here is on the stationary -- he meant I could "ring the Bell", like go to Taco Bell, because their la shitta is a lot cleaner.
All in all, a very promising first day, tomorrow Mommy / Caitlin promises me we will go to a place called "Assville", and we are going camping so not only can I pitch a tent, I can also shinta wherever I please -- like a bear!
