Last night, at 11pm, M and I decided to book it to the beach. Well, I knew where – for him, it was a surprise.
We jumped the fence for a national park and saw miles and miles of sand dunes. Together, we laid in the same and watched the stars collide with the sky and talked about life and death.
After sneaking back out, narrowly avoiding a park ranger, we headed towards the beach. By 3:30am, we were polar plunging and collecting shells.
When we froze our asses off, we rode in the car to warm up. However, he went the wrong way. Both of our phones were dead and our memories were sore given the hour.
Soon, it was 5am and we were at the end. That’s right, we hit the end of the islands. In order to go back home, we’d be driving for an additional two hours. We saw the sign for a ferry and no questions were asked. There, we befriended two bikers trekking across the east coast.
We hit the end of the first ferry and realized that we were on a water locked island. And that M didn’t have his tags on. We desperately booked it across the island to catch the 7:30 ferry.
At 7:30am, we left back for the mainland. We arrived around 10am and stumbled upon a little diner where they had quality eggs and even more quality customer service.
We were back on the road by 12pm and arriving home by 2pm.
I finally went to bed by 3pm.
It was a good ass night.
If I survive then I’ll see you tomorrow,