Each retelling leaves a negative but funny taste in my mouth, it's a story that I will probably tell for a very long time. It's one that may get you questioning whether or not it's worth it to take a third wheel on a road trip with you to save a little bit of cash or one that answers the question of if two's company, is three a crowd? I now understand why that statement makes so much sense.
Dylan and I went to a coffee shop for what they call open mic every Thursday night at 9 and we met this guy named Bob. At first, Bob seemed to be a cool guy and seemed fun to hang out with at the coffee shop. So we decided that it would be fun (and economical) to invite him along, to share the fun and the costs, but when it came down to the trip, the problems began before we even left.
I was sick with a cough when the trip began, leaving me quite exhausted. Due in part to Bob's schedule, and our accommodating spirit, we seemed to be very limited as to what day we could leave: Dylan and I wanted to leave a day earlier and take a nice slow drive down, Bob wanted to leave a day later, and so we left a day later. The worst was yet to come. When we went to pick him up from his place, Dylan and I were excited to get on the road and start this journey, Bob got all his bags, including his camera bag in my van.
He got in the backseat and the first words that started the trip were whining and groaning "this seat belt is digging into my abdomen." Was he trying to be funny? I can't remember. We start our trip down to Berkeley when Bob caught on to the way Dylan and I were making fun of one another. By the second day of the trip, Bob tried to get in on the fun by directing insults at me. Normally I would not have taken it personally, but when I responded with snappy comebacks, he did not like it whatsoever and said that I was mean for saying what I said. It was clear that Bob was angered by any response to his insults, he could dish it out but not take it. I was supposed to shut up and take the abuse, like some low life person with a disability from hundreds of years ago.
When we finally got to the hotel in Berkeley, I was a little tired of Bob because it was a Friday and he would not shut up on the trip down. Bob has an endless supply of conversation topics, and when they run out, they begin again: camping gear, the Beat poets, another road trip down the coast, camera lenses, the great redwood forests, and a bit about music. This would not stop until we dropped him off at home at the end of the trip except for brief periods of sleep.
On Saturday morning, I was not feeling particularly well and didn't feel like eating much even though breakfast was included in the cost of the hotel but I sat at the table with Dylan and Bob. Since we were so close to San Francisco it would be silly not to go explore and do some cool stuff in the city. I honestly thought I made myself very clear about the trip and being there to play power soccer and hanging out with my team: Saturday and Sunday were devoted to my power soccer tournament, while the rest of the trip was flexible. Bob did not seem to understand this and continuously asked both Bob and me when we wanted to meet up that night but he needed an answer.
Finally, Dylan and I told him "Okay, why don't we do 6 somewhere in San Francisco?" We all agreed...yay! Bob suggested a famous book store that once printed the early work of the Beat poets as an excellent meeting point. Our eyes rolled, but the topic was officially settled in Bob's mind.
Apart from being pissed off, late, sick, and tired, the tournament was frustrating. My equipment was not in the best playing condition and neither was I.
We came back from my games to the hotel when I saw my teammates were by the pool, hanging out with some beer. Dylan said he had to go back to the room to get some stuff ready to go meet Bob in San Fran. When Dylan came back down he couldn't find me. In the few minutes he was gone, I had a really good time: I was handed 2 beers and landed next to the pool having a laugh with the girls (and guys) in the sunny sunshine.
Dylan eventually wandered in the right direction and he asked if I still wanted to go meet Bob in San Fran or bail and hang out with my team. I told Dylan we could go after I finish my beers.
After another 30 minutes, Dylan asked me again if we should go. By this point, I was already pissed off at Bob for how he treated me on the way down and said to Dylan that all I want to do right now is hang out with my friends, relax, go eat somewhere, and jump in the pool which is exactly what I landed up doing.
In the morning we discussed the form of communication we were all going to use and it was by emailing Bob. Dylan did that twice because I couldn't make up my mind within a 15 minute time span but Bob wasn't in a wireless place and didn't get the emails for 2 hours. When he got back to the hotel, he was absolutely pissed off that we never showed up and went to the room while my teammates and I were about to head out for a bite to eat.
The drive back from Berkley was absolutely horrible. Midway, through the trip, I was contemplating flying home as I didn't want to be in the car for nearly 20 hours with Bob. Bob wanted to take the 101 highway which is the highway going up and down the West Coast, whereas I wanted to be done with the trip and take the number 5 highway as it is about four hours faster to get home. Bob wasn't backing down and started arguing about how he came with us and he was paying for 1/3 of the trip.
At this point, I was done arguing and I just wanted to get home at this point. On the way back I was in the passenger seat and Dylan and Bob switched positions being the driver along the entire road trip. Along the drive up the coast, Bob needed to stop every 20 - 25 minutes to take a picture. If you have ever driven up or down the 101 highway, you'll know that all you can see is the ocean as we are on the coast. By this point in our trip, I was even more exhausted, sick, and tired from all the complaining and whining.
We stop for a bite to eat at a burger joint and gas.
We sit at a table and ordered. When the food came, we were all super hungry. I knew I had to play nice to Bob as Dylan and him were taking turns driving my van. Our order came and we started eating. Traditionally, burgers come with fries and that's what I got. At this burger joint, there are these round Ketchup bottles that we could squeeze to get the desired amount of Ketchup. I underestimated how far the Ketchup would squirt out of the bottle and quite a bit of it ended on Dylan's lap. Was Dylan mad? No, he wasn't. In fact, Dylan was laughing and getting napkins to clean up.
While this was happening, Bob was trying to wrestle the ketchup bottle out of my hand as if I had squirted Ketchup on him. I guess he underestimated how strong I was and didn't succeed, so he goes up from the table and went outside for a break. When Bob was outside, Dylan and I were eating our lunch and I asked Dylan if he had my van keys. He told me that he did as I was scared that if Bob had my keys that he would take off leaving us behind with no way of getting home. I was super apologetic to Dylan, but he said "it's not a big deal, really.
" He also asked me if I knew what Ketchuup was made out of. I said "No, I have no idea. What?" I forget what he told me, but he made me feel better about the whole situation.
When we get back to Vancouver, I was so happy to be home as I was furious with Bob and I couldn't imagine going on another trip like that in my entire life.
Our first stop, dropping Bob off at home. "Thank god", I said when Bob was out of my van and Dylan shut the doors to end the journey dropping me off at home. Dylan and I couldn't believe how the trip ended up being. Dylan was super apologetic as he thought it was all his fault. I explained to Dylan that it wasn't his fault.
We invited Bob on this trip in order to save money and help us save money. Throughout the last 30 minutes of our drive, we were talking about what went wrong. For the life of us, we couldn't figure it out. We were guessing as to the reasoning behind what went wrong. We never found the answers we were looking for and the story was never answered. I went back to open mic a few times after that trip where I saw Bob, but I never talked to Bob again.
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