Sunshine State is not living up to its nickname…

I have some downtime for the moment so here goes a short documentaiton of the flawrida road trip thus far. First, highlights of the 10 hour drive:
-In Baton Rouge, Abhinav’s GPS system, Alfred, decided to use private driveways, back alleys and condominium parking lots as “roads” to lead us through the ghetto to a restaurant. Of course, at the end of the journey, there was a construction fence separating us from our destination.
-Later, in Alabama, we got pulled over for “swerving” by some profiling cop who really just wanted an excuse to question this dark foreigner sporting out-of-state plates and white girl in the passenger seat. We’d been making jokes about this possibility the entire way there, but the fact that it actually happened: priceless.

By the time we got to the condo at 12:57am(Alfred had projected 1:13. HA! We showed him.) every one had already fallen asleep. But honestly, being welcomed by a fridge stuffed full of beer and cheese was good enough.

Next day, I wake up to natural light and the sound of the ocean… heaven. After an amazing breakfast at Waffle House followed by some Krispy Kreme minis, we split into two groups: the girls (sans me) ran off to take advantage of the desperate outlet malls’ sales, and the rest of us decided to make like beached whales and head straight for the sand. Unfortunately (as the title of this post has already hinted) there was no sunshine in sight, only a thick misty fog blanketing the beach for miles. This is where the fun comes in: terrible laying-out-on-the-beach weather makes for fantastic fucking-massive-waves. Kayaking attempts failed for the most part, so we turned to body-boarding and the old-school childhood method of entertainment- jumping into breaking waves. I forget how much I like real beaches. Living 45 minutes away from the murky, (and no doubt disease infested) waters of Galveston beach you quickly learn that there are more safe and entertaining ways to die young.
Anyhow, the awesome-waves soon turned too scary for even us reckless adolescents to crash. Now we’re back inside watching Crowder play Zombie Nazis. I love summertime.

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