Planes, Trains and Automobiles 2

We were speechless for a few seconds before he finally broke in again.

“Uh, do your folks have any valium hanging around?”

“I’m not sure,” I gulped.  “Let’s go take a look.”

Upstairs I poked my finger around the medicine chest and found lots of brown plastic cylinders with polysyllabic medicinal names typed on them, but nothing indicating that they would make us hang out on a couch for hours munching on Doritos.  In fact, the wrong kind of cocktail just might impede our learning Spanish, or anything else for that matter, for a long, long time.

I gripped a bottle of St. Joseph’s chewable children’s aspirin.  The ones with the orange flavor that I loved so much.  “I dunno, John,” I grimaced.  “I’m not up for experimenting.  I don’t want to watch you racing down the center aisle screaming ‘I am the walrus’ while flying over theAtlantic.  Why don’t you try these laxatives?  They’re good for easing the tension.”

“That’s all right.  My system’s already taken care of that department for the last week.”

“Well, I guess, then, it’s just up to our iron-nerves, a couple of draft beers at the airport bar and Mr. Phillip Morris,” I concluded. “How does that sound to you?”

“Sounds like crap,” he admitted stoically. “I want drugs.”

“St. Joseph’s?  We could down the pills, eat the paper label, too, and slam back some vodka shots for good measure.”  I figured the last par would at least assure us a good buzz.

“That’s all right man.  I have a philosophical heart, so don’t mind me.”

“That’s the spirit,” I cheered and led him to the living room.  “Now, let’s go and enjoy our last day here.”

His body screeched to halt.

“Oh, for crying out loud.  Would you chill out!  It’s not like we’re going on the Hindenburg or something like that.  Come on.  Let’s watch a Cheers rerun.  That’ll take your mind off things.”

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