So where are we now? Lost somewhere between the bay area and the sierra Nevada's with a handle of Jameson half empty in my lap in the middle of the night. Our luck had changed a bit because we were so close to the our destination we have run out of ideas. We left San Francisco prematurely because we had no money, nothing to do, and nowhere to stay. Fed up and tired we bought some whiskey and figured we could take our chances on Tahoe even if the first image of the lake we get is a black abyss marked by rocky cliffs and a drunken swagger.
The drive to this point has been nothing short of incredulous. The same folk songs we had listened to through out the trip were now old and played out. The mystery was gone and there was nothing left to do but drink whiskey and pray we could find a job before we were on our way home on account of the seventy two dollars and thirty three cents in my bank account. What I didn't speak of was Vegas, and for reasons you can probably assume it left us in a different place financially (and morally) than we had been in when we arrived. It cleaned us out. I don't know what we had expected to happen but moving to a new town in a new house with no job and no money just flat out does not happen. The fog surrounding the trip had clouded our judgement and made it difficult to see the cold facts of our situation. It is getting colder and we are far too north to camp.
The lights were beginning to make me feel a little dizzy so I was concentrating on the ten feet in front of the car lit by the dim headlights. I took a sip of whiskey and handed it to Domenic and he sat on it for a minute sipping slowly like it helped him pace his thoughts. We had left in late afternoon but the traffic leaving San Francisco had hurried the night upon us. It really wouldn't matter if we arrived at ten or two the day felt like a domino that would fall away and crumble in our memories - a small piece in a long line of days that serves little purpose beyond a catalytic connection. We entered the pass and it looked beautiful but we couldn't see it so we had no idea how beautiful it was. It passed us by as ordinary as the night.
There are certain people I miss and I wonder if Tahoe will feel like home. I can't imagine it will. I am not sure what I expected to feel but this place is foreign and unwelcoming. I remember having to pee. It was a serious strain on my abdomen and the car was moving at seventy miles an hour so any thought of dealing with it was gone. Before we left Brandon had booked a few nights at a cheap motel somewhere in South Lake. When we arrived it was dark and nothing was open. The town was packed full of the night and a few lights reminded us how alone we were. We found the hotel. It was closed up - locked. I looked at Domenic and he smiled motioning at a drop box drilled to the siding just to the right of the door. Our key was in an envelope with our room number, 209, scratched in sharpie, quickly, barely legible - our grail. I smiled and wondered how much unpacking would take place before I fell asleep on the bed, so tired, so drunk, so content.
We made it to Tahoe. I wasn't sure if it was where we would end up because it was so open ended the entire trip. Most of the time I was thinking about the disparity between my life and the places we left on a daily basis so a destination didn't seem like our destination. And then we were here, in the dark, in the night, in the drunk. It was a lot - the drunk. So much that I fell asleep to the sound of Brandon laughing on the phone so happy we had actually made it. We made it, and I fell asleep.
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