It’s 2007. The Xanax fad in Houston is slowly dying, but it is still popular. The prices went up, but that didn’t matter for someone who had a prescription. I HAD THE PRESCRIPTION. My psychiatrist thought I was depressed because Kitty wouldn’t speak to me ever again. So, she gave me Xanax. P.S. Kitty and I are besties, the only girl I’ve ever probably loved that I still talk to and don’t have feelings for – believe me – I would hate every status she posts about her boyfriend, but the best part about Danyell was, she got me over Kitty. The worst part about Danyell was, well, after this memoir is made.

That’s one thing I have to put into context – Danyell was never the bad guy. She twice went a little bit eccentric for me, but those are some damn good stories, so I’m glad she did. But, she had nothing to do with the outcome of me leaving the Bronx, and if she did, I would find her, throw her over a 5 story building, pick her bloody dead body up, bring it to the top again, and throw her off again. But, it would have had to been the craziest conspiracy theory ever, and the dumbest idea ever by my cousin and her, to pull such a stunt, that I would not believe it even if she told me.

This post is dedicated to the first 24 hours after we left Houston. This detail isn’t very good, considering we were both dead drunk. I will tell you, we had numerous, probably nauseating long conversations about why we decided to leave, and I can only remember certain parts of the story. So can she. So this is what I gathered:

1) I’m not sure how the day began, but I knew I was going to refill my alcohol substance for the Yankees game that night. That night, FOR COMPLETE FACT, was Wednesday, August 8, 2007. P.S. They were playing the Blue Jays that night. Thanks Google!

2) Danyell and I had already been seeing each other, if that’s the grown up term, for a couple of weeks. I think this is how it went – I was about to leave for Spec’s, or Village Liquor, whatever the fuck it was called at the time, when she surprised me. I have to be honest with you, she interrupted more Yankees games in the 2007 season then any person alive, and well, she was the only person alive I would allow for that to happen.

3) Yep, I wanted to drink, and so did she. I know exactly what I bought her. Malibu Pineapple Rum. For some reason, I’ve been looking at Google for like 5 minutes, and this is the best picture I can come up with – the bottle on the left. It was CLEAR. I remember that. I’m not sure if they still sell it, but it was definitely pineapple and it was definitely clear.

4) I bought a not-so-big bottle of vodka. Since I was prescribed Xanax, I knew what stupid things would happen to me if I drank too much. Well, we sorta started drinking each other’s bottles….and no that’s not a sexual term……but things started turning for the worse.

5) I can’t remember if I was paying attention to the Yankee game. This makes me the most mad about EVERYTHING that happened.

6) So this is how it begins: I start on some preamble about how I’m not going to see Danyell in about a month, and it wasn’t lovey-dovey, it was just the truth: I was going to Hunter College, no matter what, I knew where to stay in the Bronx, no matter what, and I didn’t give a fuck what her opinion on the matter was – in fact – I actually circled on the map with her and many of her best friends (who I suddenly became best friends with – that’s how small towns work) showing the 68th Street Subway Station of the 6 train, circled, and I wrote all over Queens “MY NEW UNIV” with an arrow pointed at the 68th Street Station.

7) During my long monologue, Danyell interrupted me. This where things are hazy. This is not by quote, but it went somewhere along these lines, paraphrasing: “I hate this stupid fucking place! I hate it! I want to go somewhere new! Lets go! Lets just fucking go!” And she took her cell phone and destroyed it on my concrete floor.

I stare at her for a long time, half cuz she’s fucking hot and half cuz I have no idea what to say. Here I am, with a car, and one with good gas mileage, one I know how to drive well, and I had a girl who I honestly really liked telling me she wanted to fucking jump ship from Baytown. (she let me drive her car on occasion and it honestly felt like Kitty’s Geo Metro, I mean, it was Chevy Cav 2002)

That would have been her car – brand new. And a little more grey. With Hello Kitty stickers. Yeah, she was a girl. But hey, this is a perfect car to bring to New York. Do you think I would of brought the monstrosity of the Cadillac to New York? Parallel parking is a MUST in New York, and I had this big lug:

9) It was almost her determination that brought me to the point where I started unplugging my computers, gear, got clothes ready in bags, decided to take everything necessary. Now, here’s what I want to know. Did I purposely not go to get her stuff because I was too drunk to remember, or because I knew she would get sick of me and leave NY?

Now, the main point was, let me get there. I need to get there first. I remember asking me “How are you going to print out directions with your computer unplugged?” I glanced at my computer. “Because,” I began, “You take I-10 to I-12 to I-10 to I-59 North to I-24 North to I-75 North to I-81 North to I-76 North….” and before I could finish she interrupted me and said, “okay, I trust you.” Never once, sadly, did she remind me to grab all her stuff at her house, because were too gone by then. Or maybe she planned it that way. I’ll take the first benefit of the doubt. 

10) I fill the car up. She begins to start sleeping on my couch. I wake her up, and we drive straight to Beaumont from Houston, which is exactly 64 miles away, or 103 km. I pumped the car full of gas, and she was passed out in the backseat. You don’t know how pretty a girl looks with a smile on her face passed out and she’s only wearing a Derek Jeter Yankees Jersey and some underwear. LOL. Sorry. It could be any girl. Except a fat one. Danyell always bragged about her size-zeroness. Which was awesome.

When I got to Beaumont, I was starting to feel exhausted. So, I crossed into Louisiana. Before I got to Lake Charles, which from Beaumont, is exactly 59 miles or 95 km, I started falling asleep. Obviously, Danyell was out of it, and I stopped at a truck stop. I hid the car actually, because she wasn’t in the most proper attire passed out in the backseat. Oh wait, I sorta just gave up a reason why she’s in the backseat and half naked. Aw, who cares. You? Goodbye!

Anyway, I bought a big cup of coffee, I woke Danyell up which she hardly realized, and I put her in the front seat, buckled her up, kissed her forehead, and onward we went towards the east coast.

I’m not sure what time it was that I stopped at this truck stop, but it was still dark. Here’s the weirdest part of the story, and obviously sports fans will think its weird and everyone else will be like, “Matt….you and your girlfriend drove to NY on Xanax and Alcohol, how the hell is this weird” But at the same time, it was.

The sun rose. Remember it is summer, so it came up at a good time. Slowly. I passed Baton Rouge for sure, but I wasn’t to New Orleans yet. During the Baton Rouge – New Orleans journey, I switched to Interstate 12 from Interstate 10, because 12 bypasses New Orleans, which is an extra 60 miles of road if you take I-10. I-12 has to be one of the smallest interstates in the United States.

Here’s when I began coming back to life: (Oh, and by the way, I’m driving PERFECTLY) It was so early in the morning, and I had little to no idea how to use Danyell’s radio, so I just started pressing buttons. Ironically, a baseball game came out. Even more ironically, it was the Atlanta Braves and New York Mets. But here is what STILL does not make sense to me. IT WAS 6 IN THE MORNING, AT LEAST!!!

So I listen to the Mets lose. They always lose, that’s fine. For random comedy, I posted this clip of Mike Francesa talking about how bad the Mets are. LOL.

So, I’m listening to the game from Lake Charles to Slidell, LA – which is exactly 216 miles, or 348 km away. Now, the reason I mention Slidell is easy for Houstonians to understand. Everyone else would just call me dumb, but please remember, I had NO MAP. AT ALL.

I knew I had to take I-59. It goes north in Louisiana into north Mississippi. That’s the route into Tennessee. Well, when I got to this junction, I said to myself, “No way. No way is I-59 this close to New Orleans. It’s by the border. Actually Matt, no it isn’t. LOL.

From A to B – I lost over 115 miles trying to get to the next major interstate going north. Danyell was officially totally awake by Mississippi – and when I told her what happened, she didn’t care. But this is what I DID care about:

Do you want to turn around?

No.

This was in Mobile, Alabama. I began making my trek up I-65 to meet up with I-85, which would bring me to the east coast major interstate I-95. We went from Mobile to Montgomery, speaking the whole time about the game plan.

It’s pointless to say that I was hungry, obviously, I was driving all night. It was about 10 hours I had been driving. So, Danyell and I found a Walmart, and instead of a McDonalds inside, was a Subway. I bought us both a sandwich and we went on to Atlanta.

We got to Atlanta Hartsfield International Airport. What’s so sick about this is, in the picture below, we were literally in this parking lot talking about the game plan. Now, the game plan wasn’t whether we should go to New York or not. She was feeling horrible because she didn’t have her medicine. I was worn out after driving twelve hours straight, DRUNK, then HUNGOVER, then TIRED. The “A” points to exactly where we were.

Well, we both took some of my medicine. I took all of mine. Lexapro and Xanax. P.S. Lexapro is the worst drug in the world, worse than Xanax. It killed my brain. It worked on her as well, and she was feeling good. She was on Prozac and something else that didn’t even make sense to be on, and she felt the effects immediately and we were on our way.

Driving down I-85 in Atlanta was EXHILARATING. All of a sudden, an HOV (High Occupancy Vehicle) lane comes upon us. We are sitting in traffic. I look at Danyell, smile, and put it on track 2 of her CD, and then curve into the HOV lane, driving 65, while everyone else is staring at us like we’re total idiots. Guess what song we sang on repeat for thirty minutes?

Obviously, we got out of Atlanta and stopped playing the song. But, both of us were pumped up. It was around 1 PM EST. And yes, we were on the East Coast. Almost. That was when I decided to give her the wheel to rest. Well, that was half a good idea, half a bad idea. This is how far she drove the car during the entire trip (except coming home, but that’s a later story)

Now, the reason we stopped driving, is cute, romantic, scary, and horrible, all at the same time. I was asleep and she was manning the Cav. Excuse me for my Eli Manning reference. Not sure who this Peyton guy is – anyway –  all of a sudden she starts SCREAMING like she got stabbed and I wake up…and the Cav begins to descend into the opposite direction. Thank the Yankees we were on a stretch of road in Carolina no one cared about, because a median was in the way. We did a 180, and arrived in the middle of the median.

First thing I did was run out of the car and find out if she was okay. She was fine, but shaken up like no other. Second, I looked at the car, and then asked her if she could move it. It was moveable, but the second I started driving, we both realized something was affecting the left wheel. So we pulled over at a BP station. I’m sure that if this would of happened after the BP oil spill in the Gulf, she wouldn’t have let me park there; THATS HOW MUCH SHE LOVES ANIMALS. but fine.

FOR THE THIRD TIME, because I also asked her in Atlanta, do you want to turn around? No, we’re this far already, lets keep going. 

And I continued. My mission was to get to I-95. I-95 is one of the most major interstates in the US traffic system. It is the east coast north-south interstate, just like I-10 is the southern coast/Mexico’s east-west interstate. I told her the second we get to I-95, we would park, find a hotel room, and get to New York in the afternoon tomorrow.

At around 10:00 PM EST, I hit I-95. 121 miles later. 200 km approx later.

And there we were, in a city I’ve heard of, but never been to – Richmond, VA. Nice community. Only problem was, I decided to get off at the exit where very un-notable people lived. And by un-notable, I mean, scary.

We first found a Travelodge, which is a popular chain all around America. It was a tall building. We grabbed our essentials, I paid for the hotel room, and when we got up there, the air conditioner wasn’t working. Now, this would be fine and dandy so far up north, but it was August. Virginia summers are as hot as Texas summers. And, I just drove literally, lets put it this way taking out her 150 miles Danyell drove, 1,250 miles – or 2100 kilometers.

We got into our room. It was a disgrace. It was disgusting, old, and the TV had no color – and I worked on the air conditioner. It cut me on the arm and my chest, because I was basically leaning on the A/C. I started bleeding, with just a wife-beater on. I looked at her and said, FUCK THIS. 

Danyell was always the one to try and calm me down in situations, but right now, I’m bleeding in Richmond, VA, with blood all over my wife-beater, or sleeveless shirt, and I paid 59.99 for this shitty fucking hotel room. I got my money back, drove across the street, still cussing, and mind you, Danyell was angry at me for BEING SO ANGRY. Hey, could you help it? Well, it was a great idea.

For $22 less, we found a hotel with two beds (don’t worry, we weren’t bunk buddies, I still had a beautiful girl to sleep next to) and Danyell in less than 5 minutes, maybe less than 2 MINUTES, she unlocked a 20 dollar extra fee for the jacuzzi. Nonetheless, I was so exhausted I didn’t even use it, I don’t think she did either – all she knew was – I’m a bad ass – and we’re not in Texas.

I’ve tried looking for the Travelodge and hotel on a map, but I gave up after 5 minutes. This has been a long post. But this is seriously, the first day, on a trip to New York.

My favorite parts, not necessairly in order:

1) Everytime Danyell told me to not tell around

2) The Yankees won the game that day 

3) Sleeping next to my beautiful girlfriend in another state, knowing I’d be “HOME” the next day.

I celebrated when I found out the Yankees won on Sportscenter, like we won the series. I think at that moment, Danyell had a Drew Barrymore/Fever Pitch moment, and I had a, I never want to lose this girl moment.

Part Two is next: The traffic between Richmond, VA and New York took a whole day. And, I can show you exactly what we did. (Crossed toll booths without paying, barely had any gas, entered NYC)

P.S. A couple of days ago, I msg’d Danyell drunk, because I heard she still had the same phone. (No one told me, I just called and she didn’t answer and it still had her name in the voicemail). I apologize to her if she’s reading. But if she knows anything crazy happened in my life, she was apart of it. And she made it be, the way it was.

Part Two coming soon.

After we arrived at my cousin’s, fear started settling in on her brain and she realized she had to call her family and let her know what the news was. Only problem – she didn’t want them to know what borough we were even located – meaning we would have to go back into Manhattan, because the caller ID would read New York, NY, rather than Bronx, NY. Many people who have never been to New York before don’t consider Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, and Staten Island as part of New York CITY but it truly is, no matter how dumb the annexation process might be.

We got back in the Cav and I start driving to the Major Deegan Expressway to cross into Manhattan. I sped at a quick 25 mph from Fordham to the Macombs Dam Bridge:

On the bridge, I’m going too fast. Yes, 25 mph in New York is like you’re going 500 mph. The exit ramp to the FDR, or Harlem Drive that far north in Manhattan, was a big loop. The Cav had powers that I still take to heart – wide turns were absolutely incredible to take. But, I took this one way too fast.

For the first time since I had a license, I nicked a Nissan pulling onto the FDR. I immediately run for the shoulder, exiting at Second Avenue, to try and lose the guys I ran into.

Only one problem. I’ve been driving in New York for 45 minutes. They’ve probably been driving in New York for maybe 45 years combined. They chase me to a red light. Instead of gun fire, they just tell me that I shouldn’t do what I did. I look around. I’m in one of the most blight neighborhoods in all of NYC, Washington Heights.

After avoiding getting killed, I sped down Second Avenue from 115th to 42nd street. Now, if you wanted to call someone in a public place so they couldn’t track you down, where would you go?

First off, let me school everyone: IT IS NOT GRAND CENTRAL STATION. Grand Central Station is the name of the subway station for the 4,5,6,7 and shuttle to Times Sq. This massive, beautiful piece of architecture, is called GRAND CENTRAL TERMINAL. I just call it Grand Central to not get in a debate with everybody.

Right underneath that bridge where the taxis are parked, Danyell told me to wait there for her while she called her father.

I gave myself 20 minutes before I realized she probably just ran and left me in the dust. If I had to place bets with Vegas, I’d bet against myself that I’d see her again in New York. But there she was, fifteen minutes later, walking back towards the Cav.

“Do you know where a pharmacy is around here?” she quickly asks.

“Um, yeah, Duane Reade.”

“Duane Reade is the name of the store?”

“It’s like Walgreens or CVS. Lets go!” I drove to the Duane Reade I frequent in the Times Square area, and we both bought hygienic products to hold us over, for a while. We were still waiting on a verdict from my cousin on whether or not we could stay in his 2 bedroom apartment. More on that room in another post.

“You got any good music in here?” I ask, as her music choices are as random as the things she says. I remember one time she told me I was the only guy who could stand listening to her music while she was driving. I didn’t give a fuck. But now I was driving. And she picked a fucking winner.