Road Tripping

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Readers, this a fictional road story set in the 1980’s, before cell phones and the internet as we know it today. All sexualized characters are fictional and over 18. This is part one of what I hope will be a many part series. This is my first story here and I hope you enjoy.


In the early Spring of 1987, I launched my adventure on the road. I was twenty-four and recently laid off from my now out of business former employer. I’d spent the last six months preparing to hit the road to follow my favorite jam band and its hippie caravan across North America. I’d planned to stay out on the road as long as I had fun and if the car and money held out.

For money, I’d spent the time since rumors of my former employers’ purchase preparing. I’d worked all the hours I could to save. I’d sold my companies stock at a pre-sale rumor high before it dropped like a stone. In the end I was able to hit the road with almost $30,000 in the bank.

For wheels I’d purchased a 1972 Ford Galaxie 500 station wagon, with less than 60,000 miles on her. She was white with a blue interior and had no rust or damage. Classic “little old lady car”. I’d paid $1000.00 for her and had my buddy’s shop put another $1500.00 into her for new tires, carburetor rebuild, gaskets, transmission service, suspension upgrade, along with an icy AC and new fans to get heat and cooling all around the large car.

I’d also had some secrets added to the interior of the car and under the hood, to stash valuable things like weed, money, tools, and tickets. I finished her off with a new stereo and speakers, to give me good sound for the trip.

In the months I’d been anticipating my extended vacation I’d ordered four tickets for each show on the spring tours which ran until the end of June. I knew there was no way I’d get all the tickets I’d ordered but hoped to have enough extra’s either for trade or to “miracle” people with. I’d vowed I would not sell any of my tickets for cash, since I had money already and was planning to pay my way on the road selling hot dogs and beer if the cops weren’t hassling people about that.

This being the 1980’s I’d called a national campground chain and spent an hour and a half on the phone laying out prepaid camping reservations near each stop on the tour, leaving a few travel days when I’d grab a hotel room to get a real bed for the night. I had a new 10-foot X 12-foot tent, good sleeping bag, a full-size air mattress to sleep on, and if it was too hot, cold, or rainy out the air mattress was a perfect fit for the back of the station wagon.

In late March of 1987, I hit the road to Virginia, two hours from my apartment, with my roommate Max and his girlfriend Darla following in their car. I’d prepaid rent and bills with Max for six months and I’d given him tickets for these local shows. This way I knew my stuff was safe and I had a place to return to when and if I needed to.

We got to the campground two hours before the concert parking lot opened and set up our tents so we could all just crash after the show. The lot opened as we arrived, and I’d set up selling hot dogs and beer with Max. I’d had two extra tickets for the three shows in Virginia and within the first hour I’d traded one of the tickets for today’s show for quarter ounce of nice-looking weed.

I’d made a sunshade and mount to fit into the wagon’s roof racks and open tailgate along with two old beach umbrellas added for good shade in the back. We had set up two chairs and a small folding table with the grill nearby and coolers in the back at the tailgate. We sat there for the six hours before the show meeting all kinds of cool people, having a couple of beers, and sneaking to the front seat for a couple of quick hits from the bowl.

The show was great, once we got inside with four hours of music and dancing with thousands of your close new friends and some ones you knew before today. Out in the lot after the show we ate a few more hot dogs and had some water and OJ to rehydrate after all the dancing and smoking inside the arena.

The next two shows were much like the first except for a light cool rain on the second day. I’d given my spare ticket for the third show to a cute hippie chick with a sign looking for a for a miracle an hour before the third show. We had a good time dancing the whole show together and even made out a bit during the slow drum and jam portion of the show.

After we left the show, she went to find the friends she had come to the show with. I’d told her if she or her friends needed a ride to find me where I’m parked before with the white station wagon, but I never saw her again.

The next day I got up, packed up, and took down the tent, said goodbye to Max and Darla, as I took off for the next two shows in Connecticut starting the next day.

I arrived in Connecticut and stayed in a crazy hotel with a giant Teepee in front an hour from the camp site. Woke up early the next day after some good bed rest and went to the campground I’d made reservations at and set up my tent and bed for after the show. On ağrı seks hikayeleri my twenty-five-mile ride to the show I’d stopped for beer, hot dogs, and anything else I’d need for the day.

I’d found a spot to set up my grill and stuff in a lot next to people I’d been across the aisle from at the last show in Virginia. The day was sunny but there was a cool breeze, so you needed your jacket. The heat from the grill was welcome.

Although alone, I’d left my tailgate open and table with both chairs set up. After about half an hour the guy I’d traded the ticket for weed with in Virginia came strolling by. He saw the white wagon and plopped down in the empty chair.

“That green was awesome, I’d said, and I’m looking for more if it was as good. I also have some tickets to trade for other shows on the tour.” I showed Joe a piece of paper from my wallet that was a show chart with three blank places on it. One in Philadelphia, one in Chicago and one in California. I had six spare pairs of tickets for various shows and two tickets for each show. I said may want to do something with those but hoped to find someone cool to share them with along the way.

I gave Joe a Molson and a Hot Dog as he took out a pencil and wrote down the spare dates I had, and the shows I needed. If he found me the shows, I’d give him a free set to do what he wanted with. “I will find you those three shows no problem,” looking at second small sheet of his own. “I got two pairs set already and the California show will be no problem.”

“I’ll buy the spares for the first Worcester show for myself.” he said, and I told him to keep his money and they were his for all his help.

“Can you watch my grill for a moment, while I get the tickets?” I’d asked him and I went to the front of the car and got the tickets he needed for the trade plus the two Worcester tickets. I handed him the four tickets he needed for the trades and the Worcester show tickets for him. He was a little shocked that I gave him his tickets before he made the trades and gave me a hug as I’d went to clasp his hand.

I’d asked if he wanted another beer, but Joe said no, but asked if I had any water? I told him there were two gallons in the cooler and new cups on the back seat and to help himself as some people came up for food. He came back in a moment with a full cup of water and a smile. Joe leaned in to tell me quietly there was a surprise for me in the cooler and “I’d better not let it get wet in there.”

With that he was off into the crowd as four more people came up for Hot Dogs.

Ten minutes, eight hot dogs, and twelve Molson’s later, (Molson was popular there) I got back to the cooler to find a quarter ounce of bright green pot and a smaller bag of long stemmed, small capped mushrooms. I’d quickly stashed the bags in the zippered inner pocket of my jean jacket and got a large cup of water and some more hot dogs for the grill with a wide grin on my face.

The next hour passed briskly as I’d sold all but my last six beers that were kept for personal use.

Just as I’m telling a couple, who’d bought six over the last forty-five minutes, that I’m out, a Girl walked up and asked if I had any water for sale. I said hi and told her I’d just give her some and asked if she’d like to sit in the shade for a minute while I’d get her a cup and brought back the water jug to the table for both of us.

I handed her a new plastic cup as she sat down at my little table. “Hi, I’m Lou and I asked, how are you doing on this sunny day?” She took a healthy swig from the cup, saying “Thank you” as I refilled it for her.

“Hi, I’m Molly and I needed that. 8 million beers and almost no water anywhere! It has not been a good day!”

“I’d come to the show with my soon to be ex roommate she’d said. Her and her boyfriend were almost blackout drunk in two hours and she’d left when he’d puked on the hood of their car and poured all of their water on it trying to clean it off while having another beer and a shot”.

“How much for the water?” she asked.

“No one should charge for water. Would you like a hot dog or if you want there are some chips or cookies in the back of the wagon?”

Molly took a lightly burned hot dog from my little, gas camping grill and visibly relaxed silently eating her hot dog for moment.

She was around my age, about five foot, seven inches tall and about 150 to 160 pounds, I’d guess. It was tough to tell with her medium length jacket covering a fuzzy beige sweater. She had around a full size 36C chest, and she filled out her Levi’s nicely to my eye. Her medium brown hair had a light wave to it and fell about half a foot past her shoulders and was almost a match for her brown eyes.

Molly then asked, “If she didn’t go into the show could she hang out at my car?” With more of a pissed off look in her brown eyes than a sad one.

“Why is that, I asked, you don’t have ticket, or did the drunks keep it from you?”

“No, I got it here in my bag.”, as she got it out of her embroidered wallet. “I originally got two for me and my ex-asshole boyfriend. After I’d dumped him, they went and sold his ticket to one of their forty-year-old grabby drunk friends. It’s just not worth it to deal with all that shit, let alone figure out how I am getting home tonight! Those drunk douche-bags can keep tomorrows ticket too! She added in rising disgust. I’m moving the last of my stuff out, and back home to my mother’s tomorrow!” As she settled in after releasing all that anger.

“Molly, looking to her trying to project calm in my voice, I’ve got a way for you to see the show and you won’t have to deal with that drunk. I have a spare ticket for the seat next to mine and you can sell or miracle someone special for him with the other ticket.”.

She looked at me with both a surprised and a suspicious look and a raised eyebrow like “Mr. Spock”. I’d pulled the ticket out of my wallet and handed it to her saying, “there are no strings attached to this other then have a good time and dance with crazy old Lou a bit, but no unwanted groping is a promise, and I’m always on a three-beer limit at shows. I don’t want to get sick out here or get a drunk driving charge on the way out. If that happened tour would be over for me.”

She took the ticket from me and put it into her wallet with the now worthless other ticket. After another sip of water and ate the last of her hot dog. “Thank you for saving my show. I still don’t know what I’m going to do later but the show will be there.”

“I have gas and can take you to your place or to your mothers if you want. I’m camping about forty minutes from here and don’t mind driving you wherever you need to get to. I don’t want to see you hurt with those drunk assholes driving and I sure would not leave a good-looking woman stranded in downtown Hartford in March. You’ll be on a milk carton next.”

She let out a laugh and asked for another Hot Dog. I’d put four more on the grill and two more people came up and bought the other four other dogs on the grill. They were also sad the Molson was gone.

“Thank you again Louie.” She’d said with her first real relaxed smile since we had met. “What are your plans out here you said you were on tour, I think. How many shows have you seen and how many do you plan to see?”

“I’d seen three shows in Virginia, and asked her, to wait a minute,” as I sold off all the dogs on the grill waiting until the last of the people left, then I got close to her and lowered my voice so only she could hear. “I’ve got two tickets for all but three shows on this tour through June and have a friend out working on tickets for the other shows.”

“How are you doing this!” Molly looked up somewhat startled by my answer, “what about your job, I got laid off from mine a month ago and that’s the other reason for the back to mom’s song….. again.” A bit of unhappiness returning to her voice.

“I got laid off too, but I’d had about six months warning to get ready, so I’d ordered for the whole tour and worked like a dog while my company went down the drain saving for tour. Now I hope to sell enough beer and Hot dogs to feed me and the white H.M.S. Galaxie.” I said patting the cars tail light next to my left shoulder.

Molly looked over at the open tailgate and saw a curtain drawn across the back seats and others covering the windows along the side. “What are you hiding in there?” she said while making a funny sly grin on her now relaxed face are. “You hiding your wife passed out up front?”

“No, I’m traveling alone, that’s just to keep the car a bit cooler and when I’m camping if the weather is bad. My air mattress and six foot one me fit back in the tailgate dry with heat or A/C.”

Molly took a moment to lean back in her chair and look back along the long white side of the 4-door station wagon and with another laugh she exclaimed. “This is a tank! Where did you get her?”

“From a little old lady near Middletown Delaware for a $1,000.00. She just went over 61,000 miles on the way from the campground where I’d set up my tent.”

“You drove all night to get here?”

“No, I’d driven from Virginia yesterday and gotten a hotel room for the night. I went to the campground this morning where I had a reservation and set up my tent, so I’ll just crash after the show. I’d only left my tent, air mattress sleeping bag and some dirty clothes. I can bring my chairs and table in and have extra blankets, and it all goes in here and on the roof racks easy.”

For the next two hours we talked mostly about life in general as we chatted with the couple next to us and sold almost the last of the hot dogs.

I’d asked Molly if she smoked pot and she’d said yes, but that she had none on her. I’d said I had some and if she watched the grill, I’d pack her a bowl with some I’d gotten from my friend with the ticket swaps going on.

Just as the words came out of my mouth, Joe plopped onto the open tailgate with a happy grin and an empty cup being filled by Molly from the bottle next to her.

“You must be Lou’s friend Joe; he’s told me good things about you. I’m Molly, how is your day going.”

“Hi Molly, nice to meet you, I see your day is going well Lou. Do you have a beer left or is it all gone?”

I had a few left and I’d grabbed three of them handing one each to Joe and Molly, as she’d asked for one. She was over her drunken asshole roommate and all that shit. She wanted to relax and have a good time now.

“Molly, Joe asked, can you watch the grill for a few minutes while Lou and I go and take care of tickets. I won’t keep him too long.”

“No problem. You guys don’t have too much fun in there,” she said, smiling, and taking a drink of her beer.

In the car Joe gave me the tickets for the two shows I’d needed as he reached into his coat and pulled out two fat joints. “The people were so happy with the seats on the Jerry side of the stage they gave you these.”

Thanking him I’d said to “keep one yourself,” and asked if he could do me a favor and watch the grill for five minutes while Molly and I got a chance to smoke together.

He put his joint in a vest pocket and touched his chest. “Now you two kids get in here and share your first joint together. I’ll smoke with you two later today.” Exiting the passenger side, he told Molly to go to the front passenger side of the car and she got in and closed the curtain over the door so no one could see into the car.

Lighting up the joint, saying “let me show you something cool.” After my hit I’d pulled out a cardboard tube stuffed with ten smelly dryer sheets and exhaled into the tube killing the smell of the pot completely as gave the tube to Molly telling her to exhale into the thing. “Old trick a friend taught me when he lived in the dorms at college.”

I’d taken from my coat as we passed the joint, the pot and mushrooms I’d gotten earlier. She looked on wide eyed as we passed the joint back and forth and told her softly that “I got this from Joe earlier and it was pot and magic mushrooms.” Then opening the ashtray in the dash and reaching in and popping a hidden switch, a small panel opened on the dash at trim points and there was a small brass bowl, more pot, and more tickets. I took out the bowl and put the tickets from Joe in there with the mushrooms.

I’d taken out some of the new green pot and broke some up for the bowl. “I don’t deal, I’d only sell beer and hot dogs. No Coke, Heroin, or pills either I’ve known to many people who have fucked up bad on that stuff along with drinking themselves to death. If you are putting a needle in your arm you are asking for death. All the addicts are getting AIDS from sharing needles, it’s not just for gay men. You can’t be stupid out here.”

The bowl was packed, and the joint was half smoked. I’d quietly closed the secret compartment and put my finger to my lips with a goofy stoned grin.

Molly took one more hit from the joint as I’d put the bowl in my coat pocket for now. Molly snuffed out the joint in the ashtray. Taking a piece of tissue form her purse she wrapped it up and then, deftly reached up under her sweater and tucked the roach into her bra by her left breast, again giving me her sly grin and Vulcan eyebrow.

As I’m beginning to close the ashtray and get ready to exit my car Molly gently reached for my coat and looking into my eyes with her soft brown and slightly red eyes and said “Thank you” then leaned in and kissed me on the lips for a moment. We looked up for a second, then kissed again, our mouths opened slowly and our tongue’s greeted and got to know the feel and taste of the other for the first time.

Molly then pulled back gently with her eyebrow raised a bit higher, and a more excited look in her smile. She then put her finger to her lips saying. “Hold for now Lou, we’ll get better acquainted inside at the show when our souls are exposed under the music for each other to see and feel”.

Then losing her seriousness she added. “We must make sure we don’t step on the other person’s feet all the time because we have no rhythm together.”

“Ok Molly I’ve one question for you then.”

“What is it, Lou?”

“If your feet survive, do you want to go to tomorrow’s show, no strings like today?”

She leaned back in to give him a quick kiss on the lips and said, “I hope so, this is almost too good to be true.”

Joe was waiting for us talking with our neighbors and having another dog while they all smiled at us exiting from the same side now.

“You guys have fun and I’ll see you inside.” Joe said as he headed out. “I am only 2 sections over from you on the same level”, and off he went into the crowd heading in all directions at once.

I’d shut off my grill to cool it down, clean up any trash around the car and pack up the rest of the stuff except for the chairs in the wagon for the show.

Molly and Val from the car next to us walked over to her ex-roommate’s car to get her bag from there. Both were half passed out and a security guy was eyeing them from fifty feet away as Molly and Val walked up. Molly said Hi to her incoherent ex-roommate and got her bag with some clothes from the now reeking car. Val watched over her as she got everything, as they left, the security guy asked if they knew them.

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