Two summers ago, I found myself in Atlantic City completely
exhausted, overwhelmed and wanting to kill my roommate for even suggesting to
drive from Rhode Island to the tip of Jersey. The journey began on a sunny
Friday morning at nine. Our expected arrival was 2:30 p.m. since we were making
a quick stop in Queens to pick up our mutual friend. I was in charge of the GPS
and my roommate was the driver. With coffees in hand, our journey began smooth
sailing breezing through Connecticut, which normally is the problem traffic
state. Once crossing into New York, I had noticed we had passed the exit we
were supposed to take. Simple solution: get off the freeway and turn around.
This was a big mistake on my part. We ended up getting off somewhere in the
Bronx where there was on exit, just an off exit. We began simply looking for an
on exit and ended up somewhere off the grid system. My phone GPS didn’t know
where we were and could not reconnect. I’d never been so terrified in my life,
simply because I didn’t know where I was and we didn’t know how to get out.
After being lost in the Bronx for three hours, we finally made it to Long
Island. After picking up my friend we stopped at dinner and continued our
journey. We got stuck in traffic that lasted forever. I ended up falling asleep
in the backseat, which felt like I’d been asleep for two hours but really it
was only half an hour. Toll after toll we ran out of money. Tired and exhausted
we had to go to McDonalds and get change for the rest of the tools. When we
finally got to Atlantic City it was 11 p.m. and I had been in the car since 9
a.m. My friend wanted to go out when we got there but my roommate and I were
just so tired we crashed onto her couch and woke up the next morning. It was
honestly the most tiresome trip I had ever been on. To this date my roommate
and I still talk about it and every time we get caught in traffic, have to pay
a toll, or get lost we think back to this trip. I’d never been so fed up and
unexcited when getting to a vacation destination.
