Nine Kilometers

I was tired of hearing ‘how are you’. I hated dating simply because of the awkward post-breakup conversations you have with family and friends. Why? How? Did you bang her first? Then... are you staying friends. Oh boy - we were definitely not staying friends. Exes and friends just don’t belong in the same sentence. And a lot of the time it’s because the two got involved in the first place.

There was nothing virginal about Virginia.

My (loyal) pal Gordy and I had decided to skip uni for a couple of weeks to just drive somewhere down south. I don’t know where but as long as I had wheels beneath me and thewind in my hair I really didn’t give a shit.

I threw Gordy’s stuff in the boot then we were off. It wasn’t as exciting as I’d hoped. Maybe because we didn’t know where were we going? Maybe it was because we were still stuck in the middle of surburbia? Or maybe it was because I hadn’t cranked the tunes yet? Yeah, that was it. I poked a disk into the dash and the stereo pumped out Twisted Sister's ‘I Wanna Rock’ at million decibels (or there about) as we rolled down the highway heading to... well I still didn’t know. Gordy tapped me on the shoulder. He started signing, too fast as usual.

“Slow down dude!” I hated it when he did his Auslan while I drove. He rolled his eyes and signed slower.

‘Can we stop at any big things and get hitch hikers?’

“Err, sure,” I shrugged. Big things were awesome. I wanted to get a snow dome from every one of them. The Big Banana, that huge Ram, the Pineapple. I didn't know where these places were but I was determined to find out now. Hitch hikers? They were uncommon in Australia so I doubted that we’d find one along the way.

Gordy began a silent game of pointing-at-random-places-on-the-map searching for a destination. I had driven all of 6ks when I started craving a Red Bull. I stopped at the service station for a caffeine fix. I grabbed Gordy a carton of choc milk and a Snickers bar. Being my typical space cadet self and not paying any attention, I fell over an enormous back pack laying near the counter. Don’t ask me how I missed it. It was the size of a baby elephant. I cursed as my items scattered across the floor along with yours truly.

“I’m so sorry!” a voice cried out.

I collected myself from the floor. Some hot tourist lady was standing at the counter, red as a fried Pom on Cottesloe beach. Poor thing was so embarrassed I wanted to die for her.

“Hey, that’s alright, I should watch where I’m putting my size twelve clodhoppers.”

I grabbed my stuff of the floor and set them on the counter. The lady started trying to jam stuff into her seriously overcrowded bag.

“You er, going somewhere?”

“No, she said,” shaking her head. Blow me down, she was a freaking Pom.

“What’s with the bag?” I was an excellent conversationalist.

She smiled. “I’m a backpacker.”

“No shit! Wow that must be exciting.” Like I said about the conversation thing.

I paid for my loot and headed back to the car. Something Gordy said made me stop. Hitch hikers, backpackers – they’re the same right? The auto doors opened but I spun around and walked back to the Pommy chick kneeling on the ground.

“My names Barney. I’d extend a hand but they’re kind of full.”

She was eating a donut. She wiped the sugar from her hand and extended it to me. “Tracy.” She pretended to shake my hand and I laughed.

“Hey, where you headed?”

“Nowhere really. I’m on my last few weeks here in Perth and I thought I’d just play it by ear.”

“No kidding! Me and my mate Gordy are on a bit of a road trip ourselves.”

“That sounds like fun. Where are you going?”

“Same place as you,” I smirked.

She looked a little confused.

“Nowhere in particular. We’re just driving.”

“Oh!” she realised, finally laughing.

“You, ah, wanna tag along? We’ve got room.”

“Umm, sure,” she said cheerfully. She was really pretty when she smiled. Shame she didn’t seem so bright.

“Come outside, I’ll introduce you to Gords.”

She grabbed her burden and dragged it outside. The thing looked damn heavy. I threw my crap into Gordy’s lap and helped Tracy with her bag. The elephant weighed a tonne! I lugged it into the boot with a thud and I hoped I didn't break anything. I opened the door for her then got in, careful not to whack my head like I usually did.

“Gordy, this is Tracy, she’s coming on our trip.” I fired up the engine. Thankfully it started first time this time. Stupid heap of crap old Subaru. Gordy turned around and waved to our guest.

“Gordy’s a mute. He can understand you when you talk but can’t say anything. Do you know much sign language?”

“Ah, no. Sorry I don’t.”

“Well, that’s going to make things interesting,” I muttered under my breath. They wouldn't have heard me under the rattle of the engine.

I tried to pull out of the servo but traffic was insane.

“Group up people!”

Gordy kept trying to sign to me and I swiped him. He was apparently blind too. I turned to him and snapped.

“Quit it, ya dick! I’m trying to pull out of here without smashing into someone!” The jerks finally grouped up and I finally caught a break long enough for old Betsy’s smoke to dissipate before strangling the unsuspecting drivers behind me. I stomped on the go pedal and the L series touring wagon lurched forward (in its own time) and we were off, hopefully for real this time.

Gordy began nudging me again. I turned to him and he started to sign.

“Vagina called? Dude, stop calling her that!”

Gordy developed a love for calling Virginia Vagina after she ran away with my supposed best friend and the rest of the uni's hockey team. They deserved each other as far as I was concerned.

“I’m not calling her back.”

“Who’s Vagina?” Tracy asked from the back seat.

“My ex.”

“Why is she ‘Vagina’?”

“Because she’s a whore.”

That pretty much summed it up. Tracy caught on.

“So where are we going?”

“Yeah Gordy, where are we going?”

I had left it in his hands to find a place on the map. He began stabbing locations with his finger which was useless to me. I guess choosing a mute navigator wasn’t the smartest decision.

“Tracy, can you please help him?”

“Sure.” She seemed like a top chick.

They began suggesting places either followed by a yes, no or where the hell is that.
‘Gold digger’ began screaming from my phone. Gordy leapt to answer it, sending the map flying (thanks to the open windows). Tracy squealed in the back as the map went mental and accomplished its suicide mission by flying out the window into the windscreen of the car behind me. It swerved to miss the kamikaze map and a chorus of horns began blowing. Distracted by all the commotion, I ran a red light. 7.5 kilometres from home. Wow.
The phone was still ringing. Gordy was signing ‘vagina’ repetitively until Tracy grabbed the singing phone off him.

“It’s Vagina.”

I snatched the phone and looked at it. Gordy must have changed her name, funny bastard. I reluctantly answered it to avoid further calls.

“Hey, Vagina – er Virginia.”

It was so hard being nice to her but I only did it because it pissed her off.

She began prattling on about some stuff she left at my place. Books, clothes, shoes, jewellery, blah, blah, blah.

“I’ll leave it in a box outside.”

Jabber, jabber...

“I don’t give a shit, it’s not my stuff.”

I hung up.

“Gordan! She has her own ringtone for a reason!”

He flipped me the bird. That was a universal sign.

“You answered it anyway,” Tracy piped.

“Hey, don’t you start!”

The car fell silent.

Gordy grabbed his choc milk and opened his snickers. I waited until the next red light to get my drink.

“You know that stuff is super bad for you?” Tracy said airy-fairily, referring to my caffeine fix.

“It keeps me awake. So unless you want to drive this bucket of crap, let me drink my can of super bad.”

Finally a red light. I cracked open the can only to be covered with a fizzing spray of energy drink. It squirted all over the steering wheel, the windscreen, me, Gordy, the floor, the seats. Tracy began laughing like an evil kookaburra. Gordy just stared at me.

"Don't sign a word," I threatened. He stifled his strange, silent laugh. “Screw this, I’m going home.”

My first ever road trip lasted all of 9 kilometres. That must be a world record.