I woke up hung over in the back of a V.W. camper bus parked in a parking lot that had been empty when we found it the night before, but was now quickly filling up, in a suburb of Oklahoma City. A security guard was tapping on my window with a flashlight and telling me I needed to pay him four bucks to park for the day or get moving. If the lot had any shade I'd have given him the four bucks, but instead I asked him where I could get some Jo-Jo Potatoes.
He pointed me to a fried chicken drive-in down the street and I started the bus warming. Dan, the owner of the bus and my traveling companion on this trip woke up and climbed into the passenger seat. He was calculating just how much wine we'd consumed the night before in ounces as I pulled the bus up in front of the chicken place. After tidying up the interior of bus and ourselves we approached the window.
I needed the only hangover cure I've ever known to work, an ice cold Coke (preferably in the can) and some breaded and fried Jo Jo potatoes. At the window, ready to take our order was a cheerful blonde woman whose name tag read “Christina. Service Professional, First class” and beneath that were four stars. After ordering my breakfast I asked Christina about her name tag with it's neat row of stars along the bottom.
"So, I see you got four stars there."
"Yep. I got one for every year I've worked here." she leaned closer, "And when I get my star this year, they're gonna have to start a brand new row." she said, beaming with pride.
She was right. There was not room for a single star more on that name badge without starting another row beneath the first. I had at this point in my life never managed to hang onto a job for more than a year. I was traveling around the country in a VW Bus spending the last paycheck I'd gotten. I stood facing this woman who was probably a good two years younger than me and yet was preparing to celebrate her fifth year at a job. And I arrogantly figured I had something to teach her. But first, I had something to learn from her.
"Hey listen, Christina, can you tell us how to get to Oklahoma City from here?"
"Oh, you're going to Oklahoma City! I've never been."
"Really? We must be further off than I thought. How far is it?"
"About an hour."
“An hour? So you’re telling me you've worked here over four years, and in that more than four years you’ve never once traveled the one hour drive to Oklahoma City?"
"Well I don't have a car yet. I'm saving up."
"Christina, what time do you get off. We're taking you to Oklahoma City."
"I Couldn't Do That!"
"Why not?"
"Well you don't make a big trip like that without some planning. "
I was still hung over, and it did occur to me that I wasn't looking like the kind of guy one should be jumping into a van with, so I got back to the directions. The directions Christina gave were as follows,
"Okay pull out of the parking lot here and go back down the street until you come to Main Circle. Make a right on Main Circle. As you circle around you'll see Oakwood Street, go right past it. Take Main all the around until you come to Oakwood Street again, make a right and you'll see the freeway to Oklahoma City."
I thought I understood. "Okay, so past Oakwood, and then go half away around and pick up Oakwood on the other side?"
"No. You're not listening. Pass Oakwood and go ALL the way around until you come back to Oakwood again, then Make a right."
Dan and I looked at each other insuring that we both were hearing the same odd directions. We thanked Christina and headed out. I came to Oakwood Street and made a right. We were in the kind of neighborhood I didn't think existed anymore. Old black folks sat in front of houses that appeared to have been put together from scrap lumber with tin roofs. People stood up at the sight of us. We were clearly not where we were meant to be, or particularly welcome. We drove for a mile or two and seeing no sign of a freeway we turned around and went back to the circle, and then carefully found our way back to the chicken place.
We departed again and this time followed Christina's directions exactly. We passed Oakwood, we circled around, all the way around, passing the street that would have taken us back to Christina and we came to Oakwood again. It was clearly the same intersection we’d turned on the first time, and passed just moments earlier. We made a right. Two blocks later we grabbed the freeway and made our way to Oklahoma City.
“Dan, what the hell just happened.”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think we need to investigate. Lets get the hell out of this twilight zone episode.”
An hour later we arrived in Oklahoma City.