When I lived in Florida, I always drove back home whenever I had time off. The trek that was involved in this was a 13 to 14 hour drive, depending on traffic. Also, I would get off at VERY late hours, sometimes around one in the morning or six in the afternoon. I found various methods of staying awake: loud metal music, screaming really loud, no cruise control, windows down, to name a few. However, my favorite method was talking. My favorite conversationalist was a man who drove a giant and very purple Mack truck on his route down I-10 through the Florida pan-handle. We found each other one night driving at around two A.M. and I was just attempting to stay awake so I would pass him. In return he would pass me, like a giant game of leap frog at 75 mph. Before one of my breaks where I thought I might run into him; I purchased a megaphone. Upon happen chance, I DID run into him and rejoiced as my recent purchase was in the backseat. I then screamed at him, “YOU SHOULD BUY ONE SO WE CAN STAY AWAKE WHILE WE DRIVE!” I could SEE him shaking with what I hoped was laughter and not a stroke at the hilarity of what I had just done. He then pulls his CB out and screams through the megaphone he already has hooked up IN HIS TRUCK. So we talk about various things, mostly where we had been and where we were from, and ended up where you usually end up after a few pints, “What songs do you know?!” So we sang a few old bits back and forth, but then the story took an interesting turn as he yells “Do you know Greensleeves?!” As I do know the song, so began the blaring of it down the interstate at 75 mph. Enter the funny.
There was a certain portion of that interstate where one of the local roads went over the interstate. I always noticed two cops that always perched there looking for speeders. How did they react to the spectacle? Passed them, lights went up, me and my singing partner each had a black and white on our tail. I expected to hear, “Pull your vehicle over and shut off the engine,” what we got was, “You fucked up that last line.” The only thing I can think of in response to this is, “Alright, wise ass, how DOES the line go?!” And if you were up, and the wind was right, you could hear all four of us, as we sang into the night across county lines. I didn’t feel as though I was a part of some larger thing or befriend random people. It was fun and we stayed awake so that we did not die. But the story remains and I’m happy to retell it.
