Another one of those ones that I wrote a while ago but I never finished. I remember how this go's but it be wrong to finish it. Its quite a good ending for a short story anyway.
Other then my other loves, I loved it when she made decisions for me; honestly I loved it when most anyone would make decisions for me; but she did it best. She would say to me Look What Do You Wanna Do? And - if I just shrugged my shoulders she'd get mad- I'd tell her a few things I'd like to do then she'd say Probably Best You Do This. She didn't make decisions for anyone but me, everyone was grown up to make up their own minds; and sometimes she let others make her mind for her. But she knew what I was like, my absolute irreputable unseparatable love affair with indecisiveness, and she was nice enough to access situations to find the best option -my least favourite part fo decision making- and nice enough to let everyone else think she was bossy.
The Start of My Indecisive Adventure:
She initally decided it would be morally obscure for her to pick which university to go to. I knew what I wanted to do; I wanted to do the subjects I was best at and the subjects I liked more; I just didn't know where to do them. Best one in the country this, most suitable for your corse that; please make the decision for me. She thought it be wrong because for the whole week she'd had people arrange and set her mind for her. Whenever this happened I would be in a state of freefall trying to figure out which way to go; towards the electrons or the protons; towards the North pole or the South. I thought maybe I'd go to the Uni with the big farm on campus, what a trivial reason to base one's future on. I thought maybe I'd go to the Uni with the highest entry requirements; what a nerdy reason to base one's future one. I called her everyday to find her in the same state of decided undecided prearranged despair.
I decided not to tell her when I left; because she was already arranged enough as it was. If I told her, she would just arrange herself more. Best not tell her; best let her figure it out for herself; realize I'm not around anymore; and then come to her own conclusions on what to do. If I told her she'd have no thrill in figuring it out on her own and hence would take no initiative in making her own mind. I knew her well enough to make a few decisions for her benefit; I didn't think I knew myself well enough to make my own decisions when on the road. But there I was on the road. I took a few usefull useless essentials; put it all in a very large very old van I bought. I, with my P liscense went out on the road, a huge decision, to avoid having to stay home, and make other smaller decisions. I brought my ladder with me.
A Wife
Maybe if I had a wife she'd make all my decisions for me. Back home my friend would make all the decisions for me and she knew me well enough to make the best ones. So a wife should, a wife would do the same thing. I wondered where I could find a wife; as if they wandered around wearing veils and holding bouquets. I gave my friend a phonecall
"I think I wanna get married"
"Big life choice there"
"My wife could make all my decisions for me you see"
"Try a bar?"
I drove but didn'd find any bars that looked like they had women in them . It was getting dark. Other then fieldtrips for school, I'd never spent a night away from my matress with my two pillows and digital alarm clock with taped down snooze button. I had a matress in the back; not my mattress but a mattress from one of the guests room. If my friend found my matress missing she'd catch on to early and the thrill would be lost. I left the house at 9am it was 7. I wondered how long I could keep driving.
Breakfast Lunch and Dinner
I brought a hotplate but I didn't have any plugs in my van so its relevance seemed futile to me. I brought boxes of bread; that would expire in a few days. And so much peanut butter. I never understood how well of I was until I saw how much peanutbutter I managed to get. Only a rich kid could get so much peanutbutter. I forgot to bring a knife. I didn't want to stop driving, the closer I got to; the pointed end of the road sitting on the horizon; the better I would feel. How long can a person go without food? A week without water a month without food; I had brought lots of water. More water then peanutbutter. I didn't need any kitchen utensils to drink water. I very often needed to stop and piss. When I pissed in the wind I constantly feared the wind would blow it back onto my jeans. I'd forgotten to pack more jeans. I packed 12 pairs of boxers and two more shirts but no jeans. I tried pissing when there was no wind; but there was always wind. I learned to pee with my back to the wind; so the wind would help blow my piss further and further away from my solitary jeans. I wondered if anybody would pass by and stare at me taking a leak; but nobody passed by. I ate bread and sometimes crammed my fingers in the peanutbutter jars and licked them clean. I saw lots of stores as I drove by; but I refused to stop. I had to take shits in the bushes but it was ok. The sight of the sun rising and the wind rustlng through made it; a relaxing experience. I didn't see any hitchhikers so far and I wondered whether; if I did; should I pick them up. A hitch hiker might have a knife for my peanutbutter. As a guy old enough to get a P Liscencse for a manual car I didn't have to worry about a knife wielding hitch hikers. What if the hitchiker was a girl? Are hitch hikers marrying material. My friend called me as I was pulling over somewhere to sleep.
"Did you try a bar?" She started listing local bars in our neighbourhood; that we sometimes went to to get chocolate milk.
"No. Hey"
"?"
"Are hitch hikers marrying material?"
"Did you see one today?"
"No"
"They can be. But girls don't hitch hike"
"Rapists?"
"Rapists. Rapists are the reason we don't do anything anymore. There were loads of rapists in the old days but; back then a stranger was just as likely to rape you as your uncle was. It was better to be away from home back then."
"Lots of Oedipus complexes"
No More Bush Shitting
Early in the morning; around 9. Driving I wondered if eating peanutbutter of the same hands that I used to touch the steering wheel and clutch of this mysterious old van was the alriight thing to do. I saw a few people walking by and pulled over to ask them if they had butter knifes they could give me. Nobody ever did. Did nobody leave the house with butter knifes anymore; how many people now compared to the amount of people back then had Oedipus complexes. I knew I didn't have one but those aren't the things that are very obvious; it might rise up from the dark suddenly. All the better I was leaving home. I was taking a piss in the sand and just as I was zipping up my jeans somebody approached the van. I saw the person from a distance; had to run all the way back to the van; back to the main road. Luckily that person hadn't seen me taking a leak. It was a girl; she was wearing sunglasses eventhough It wasn't particularly sunny. She looked at me and it was if she didn't see me; she had to take of her sunglasses and put on a pair of ridicolously large almost Dumbledore glasses from her pocket. When she did; and when she looked at me; then I finally felt recognized; ah she see's me now. I did the only thing I could think to do; I pulled out my hand stretched it towards her big framed face. She grasped it firmly; we shook hands, one shake looking each other in the eye.
"Is this your van" She was absolutely casual as if the handshake had elminated the formailty required in the conversation. That was the objective of the handshake.
"Yeah; hey do you..."
"?"
"Have a knife?"
She pulled out from her pocket a very small cracked here and there plactic knife that you get from fast food joints as well as a napkin. I liked her instantly.
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