[Here's "In Case I Am Kidnapped and Sold, Part 1."]
Before I got into his car, W. apologized for the smell. A gallon container of milk that had been sitting in his backseat for three days had exploded, showering the interior and leaving an unholy smell. W. valiantly had attempted to cover up the odor by pouring vinegar inside the vehicle, an Internet suggestion so bad that it has destroyed lives. Like W.'s.
Jake and I endured the vinegar stench on the way to a location near the theme park, a location where I was to get into the trunk and be driven across the border and into the promised land, while Jake would wait for the second crossing.
I scraped my elbow climbing into the trunk. But before I could protest, we were on our way. W. (unwittingly, he said later) was blasting house music through his speakers—so while my fetal-positioned body was being thrown back and forth inside the dark and vinegary trunk, drum-and-bass thump-thump-thumps were being thrown back and forth inside my skull. "If I were being kidnapped," I thought, "no one would be able to hear my screams."
I eventually emerged, not in a remote location where I would be drugged and transported across international lines, but inside the glorious theme park (still keeping it vague so nobody gets busted). I sat near a food stand while W. drove back to fetch Jake, who had the good sense to call W. from the trunk to tell him to turn down the music.
The theme park's main attraction, a thrillingly trippy simulated roller coaster ride based on a certain TV show, was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It was crazy fun, but it made me nauseous. Jake had to keep his eyes closed to keep from throwing up. W. was fine—after all, the tone of his day was not set by an early morning trunk ride.
Since a fun time was had by all, Jake has successfully (albeit unwittingly) assumed the role of White Guy With Brownish Hair From the UC Santa Cruz Film Program since Gabriel is already gone. And when Donovan leaves in two days, W. can take his place as the other White Guy With Brownish Hair From the UC Santa Cruz Film Program. I guess there are more of them than I thought. This is getting ridiculous.