Caligula and Caesar's American Adventure

Music and Diners (Cali)

So two quick stories:

The first:  I’m driving to Connecticut. Well, I was. At the moment I’m letting Cae drive because apparently I had a lapse in reasoning. So I told her that I brought my vinyl player and stuff, right? She gets on me about bringing “unnecessary hipster bullshit” on the van. Fuck you. I mean, really? If there’s anyone who’s hipster it’s her, wearing fucking sweaters and scarfs in summertime. Damn hipster.

So I gave up, and said I brought along some CDs too, and then this bullshit happened:

Me: “I brought some CDs. Do you want to listen to some? We’ll probably listen to all of them by the time we get out of the city.”

Cae: “Fuck you, at least I don’t run red lights and flip off pedestrians for trying to walk.”

Me: “They need to hold off on their ‘walking’ bullshit and let me get through. I’m the motherfucking driver, I have ten tons of steel that I can ram into their face at whatever speed I want. Maybe they should chill out and wait like, two seconds before walking.”

Cae: “You know what? Fine. Fuck you. You can just hit pedestrians and kill everyone like it’s fucking Grand Theft Auto and rack up all your bullshit points, but I’ll be-”

Me: “Can you shut the fuck up? What do you want to listen to? I didn’t ask for your life story, Jesus.”

Cae: “Do we have U2?”

Me: “Man, fuck U2. Stop with your British bullshit. I have Joy Division. Let’s listen to them. They were the shit, and they were AMERICAN AS FUCK.”

Cae: “Joy Division were British.”

Me: “...Fuck you. Always raining on my parade of awesomeness. You’re just jealous. Let’s listen to The Strokes, then. You like The Strokes, right? Or are you inhuman?”

Cae: “...The Strokes are from Britain.”

Me: “...FUCK.”

So right now we’re listening to “Elephant” by The White Stripes. She said it was too loud and it bothered her.

I may kill her.

The second: We go to this little diner thing, right? I was starving, and I saw this little diner thing all covered in chrome and I was like “Aw fuck yes” and made her pull in.

So the first thing Cae says is that they don’t have these in Britain. I said that they also didn’t have freedom in Britain, which she objected to. I said to shut up and decide what she wanted to drink.

The waiter comes over, and this guy is... I suppose “perfection” is a bit of an understatement. So I order my Coke nicely, like a lady, and Cae looks up at him and, in a horrifyingly loud British voice, yells:

“DO YOU HAVE ANY WOTSITS?”

The guy looks at her like “What the fuck is a Wotsit” and I just buried my face in my hands and slowly realized that I would not, in fact, be getting that sweet ass tonight. After he left, we had this conversation:

Me: “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Cae: “What?”

Me: “Again? Again with the goddamn Wotsits?”

Cae: “I really want some.”

Me: “I bought you cheese puffs. Eat the damn cheese puffs.”

Cae: “I did, but they’re not the same! Wotsits are just... Better.”

Me: “YEAH WELL HIS DICK IS BETTER AND I’M NOT GETTING IT.”

Cae: “What?”

Me: “I was totally getting that ass before you came in and cock-blocked everything with your Wotsit bullshit.”

Cae: “Pfft. Right. Like you’d get any. I don’t want you defiling our car, anyways. I have to sleep there, you know.”

Me: “I WOULD BE SLEEPING WITH OUR WAITER THERE IF YOU WEREN’T SUCH A COCK-BLOCKING ASSHOLE.”

Cae: “Doubt it.”

Me: “Alright, whatever ‘Britfish.’ Just eat quickly so we can get back in the car and I can cry over what you made me lose today.”

Cae: “You’re not losing your virginity, that’s for sure...”

Me: “I hope you fucking choke on your Wotsits.”

So I was just about to stop writing and go to bed when I found a CD wrapped in wrapping paper and a bow with a note that says “This is very, very American.”

It’s a Johnny Cash CD.

I fucking love Cae.