Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Visiting the Land of No Self-Service Gas Stations

Well, it's Monday, and this post means that I've survived a weekend in New Jersey.  I don't have very many good photos, due to my iPhone basically being on it's last leg of battery the entire time.  I just had to have that portable charger, and I swear I always forget to pack it...

I may not have photos, but my words will do the trip justice, I promise.  A and I left the DC area around 6pm on Friday.  If you live in the area, pleaes hold your gasps of "ohmygosh you're stupid and crazy and did I mention stupid?"  We dind't really have a choice.  So into the car we went.  We hit traffic.  Abominable amounts of traffic.  Mainly in Maryland.  Which, after stopping at a Chick-Fil-A in Maryland and being treated so rudely, I can officially say it is on the bottom of my "favorite states" list.  And by bottom, I mean it is #51, right after Puerto Rico.  (It's a terriroty, not a state, blah blah, go with the joke, okay geography freak?)  We drove through Delaware for, uh, three minutes, because Delaware is practically a fake made-up state.  I get that it's "the first state" (woop de doo da) and all but it really looks like the governor of Maryland went all-in on a poker game with some guy named Chuck Delaware and was so desperate to continue gambling he just drew a scribble across Maryland and bet that part of land. 

Anyways, to make a long car ride short, almost 5 hours later we arrived in Long Beach Island.  Precious town.  Seriously.  So cute.  It was nothing like the fist-pumping Jersey Shore you see on TV.  Everyone was already dressed and ready to go out to the bar, so we hurried up and joined them. A cab ride and a short trip in a neon pink school bus later, we were at some little beach-side bar/restaurant/club/thing.  Drinks were one trillion dollars, which is normal in the real-people world, but something I'm still getting used to coming from cheap-lando.  The bar had a really great cover band, and I won't lie, I fist pumped just a tiny bit... when in Jersey...

At 1:30am, the bar kicked everyone out to close.  And by "kicked everyone one," I mean they turned on the lights, told everyone to leave, and then told everyone to stay in the entrance-way when they realized it was monsooning outside.  So, first I'm not allowed to stay, and now I'm not allowed to leave?  A and I were less than pleased, and as we looked out the doors at the pouring rain, we got a little antsy.  Maybe the beers fueled our attitudes a little... since when was everyone afraid of a little rain?  We're from Florida, people.  It hurricanes there.  By the way we were rolling our eyes at the drunk twenty-somethings cowering in the corner, you'd think we had personally kayaked the tsunami in Japan on a daily basis.  Two of the guys in our group were apparently really driven to get home to drink more beer, (or very likely just sick of our whining) and offered to man up and drive us home in the "pathetic little rain shower." 

Reality check.  The island was flooded.  Not oh-there's-a-puddle-in-the-parking-lot flooded... legitimately... flooded.  We waded to the car, which then had to practically activate it's emergency flotation devices just to make it to the street... and even then, we could only drive down the center double yellow lines.  We bit our tongues real fast once we realized this wasn't just a little sprinkling from the clouds.  This was the second coming of the flood that caused Noah to build his arc.  We definitely didn't have any giraffes or lions or panda bears around, much less matching pairs, so we needed to make it home. 

Finally, after what felt like the roller-coaster-water-park-ride-leading-to-my-death in the car, we made it to the beach house.  And slept on air mattresses on the floor.  And awoke with achy heads to experience a shining sunny day, not a cloud in sight.  So off to Wawa we went. 

I really feel like I should save Wawa for another post.  But the Fourth of July is tomorrow so let's be real, if I don't tell you about the amazing godsend that Wawa is now, I'll never get around to it.  So here goes:

Wawa is God's gift to the earth.  Well, technically, to the east coast, with the exception of a lot of states.  It may even attempt to upstage baby Jesus.  (Completely kidding, guys.  I'm Catholic.  Totally joking.)  Imagine the most awesome 7/11 convenience store you can think of.  Then imagine Martha Stewart cleaning it and organizing it.  Then imagine Publix subs deli section.  And then put those all together.  Wawa Food Market.  Every snack, coffee flavor, soft drink, fresh-made hoagie, breakfast sandwich, macaroni-and-cheese-and-mashed-potato-and-chicken-nugget-bowl you can think of, all in one amazing place.  Heaven has a Wawa on every corner.  There is little that A and I wouldn't do for a Wawa to be built on a corner in our area.  She went as far as to say she would kiss Nancy Pelosi for a Wawa.  (At least she would have delicious Wawa sweet tea to wash it down with.)  If you've never been, Google one near you and go... now.  Seriously.  Not even joking. 

Anyways, the rest of the trip was pretty average, and is out shined by the weather catastrophe and the glory of regional convenience stores, so I'll save you the time.  Have a great Fourth of July!  Happy Birthday, America!


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