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I knew my wife was crazy before I asked her to marry me. After all, it was her craziness I fell in love with. When I think back to when we were dating, I replay in my head all of the places we have been, the things we have seen, and I always get a kick of the night of our impromptu road trip that ended better than one would think.
The two of us were lying around, watching TV when we decided that we were both hungry. Being a bachelor at the time, it was no surprise that the cabinets were bare, and the fridge was full of nothing but beer and ketchup. Needless to say, we agreed to run out and grab a bite. It was later in the evening, but not too late to get a table in a restaurant. So we hopped into my Dodge Neon and off we went. Before we got to the restaurant, my cell phone rang and a few of my friends invited us to meet them at Turning Stone Casino, which is a couple of hours west. I approach my wife with the last minute plans, and she reluctantly agrees. Now our night has become a little more involved. We would have to grab something quick to eat to avoid leaving my buddies waiting around until we get there. My girlfriend, who used to be married to a gambler, hops in the driver seat and says “I know how to get there, I had to go pull my ex out from there a few times in the middle of the night!”, which is fine with me because I had no idea where it was.
She tells me to keep an eye out for exit 33, and we left with a couple of hours to talk about everything under the sun. When you are a new couple, it’s a necessity to have those deep conversation nights that last a few hours, so we figured we’d kill a few birds with one stone. After two hours of driving, I notice we are only at exit 27, so I asked her how long it normally takes to get there. She says we should be there about now, but decide to press on. We finally hit exit 33 about three hours in. I look out the window, and we are in no man’s land. As we go further off the exit ramp, there is nothing in sight; no traffic lights, no buildings, no gas stations, nothing. I call up my friends, who by now are wondering where the hell we are, only to find out that instead of taking the Thruway, my darling girlfriend hopped on the Northway. We were 20 minutes from the Canadian border.
Surprisingly, as frustrating as it was, we were both laughing at ourselves rather than getting angry. After all, we did get to have the “talk”, and it brought us closer in our relationship. So we turned around and began our trek home. At this point, we weren’t even hungry anymore. At about 3 a.m. we entered our hometown, and were mentally beat. The radio was cranking and we were being silly dancing to some oldies music when a local police officer decided to pull us over because she was driving over the shoulder of the road. The negative breathalyzer allowed us to proceed without any convictions, and we couldn’t stop laughing the whole way home.
To this day, that night is one of my fondest moments of life. We learned a lot about each other. My girlfriend, now wife, got to see my patient side and I got to see her bad driving skills and unsure sense of direction.
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