In high school, I hung out with knuckleheads. They weren't bad people, just people that didn't think very clearly. By 11th grade I was done hanging out with guys. My perfect weekend night was eating some pizza at the local Pizza Hut, then finding a nice quiet place to get it on. Occasionally, I found myself out with my boys. On this particular night, we managed to get about seven guys into a Subaru made for 4 people, and they called three of us the Fat Boys (popular rap group back then) so it was kinda thick with beaners in that poor car.
I don't know why, but our fearless leader was driving us to this private river or part of a river where it would be cool to swim. It is a small town and most everybody knows stuff like this, but he had info that he needed to prove. The weird part was that it was raining/drizzling, so no one was going to go swimming anyway. Add to that, his windshield wipers didn't work, and he actually had a hand out and was trying to work the wipers and drive stick with a guy sitting in front with the manual stick between his legs. He would yell, shift, and the guy would shift, it was a mess, I at least sat passenger, and was not stuck in the backseat where four other dudes were crowded in.
We wound up on some dirt road on the side of the river that nobody really goes, it's private property but he knew a guy who knew a guy, so it was ok. He's going kind of fast because he is sure of where he is going, the road is muddy and we slip and slide into deep tire marks made probably by farm equipment, bottoming out here and there. The whole trip was nowhere near my idea of fun. But he is sure of where we are going, I am sure Ozzy Ozbourne was blasting through the radio, because that is what dudes listened to back then.
We go probably 4-5 miles into this dirt/mud road and he's hauling ass and saying somewhere around here, and the car smells of testosterone and stinky dude, thinking it can't get much worse, then WHAM!!!! end of the road. We hit a ditch where our road ended and another met it at a T. The car went into a ditch and just stopped, luckily, my nose stopped my 300lbs along with the other 500lbs seating behind me when it was smashed on the dashboard, I don't know how it didn't break, but blood went everywhere. The guy riding on the stickshift broke his nose and his arm. Another guy in the backseat broke his arm, and there were some scrapes and plenty of bitching and moaning to go around.
It was now drizzling, we were a good ten miles out of town, there were no cell phones or anything like that. The only thing to do was start walking back home. The car was totaled, we left it there. My nose bled for awhile, but eventually stopped. It hurt for a couple days, but it was ok. The guy in the middle broke his arm at the socket before playing football so he said if we pulled it, it would go back into its place. So he did something like that. The other guy made a sling out of a shirt and we walked. Dammit, we walked past all that mud the car had barely gotten through.
At one point, we crossed the river at the paved road and our fearless leader was contemplating jumping in because he felt so bad/guilty about screwing half of us up. We talked him down, nowadays, we would say "stop being a little bitch", but different times. Once we got past that, there was a ballroom and a house, we called his folks, and probably other folks. I didn't tell my folks about this for a while. I went to my friend's house and slept it off. There was no alcohol involved, none of us were into drinking, now eating, yes, but not getting drunk. This was just stupid guy stuff.
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