Our plan was to start in the early afternoon in Cincinnati and drive all night to Big Cypress, with a break in Atlanta to see my brother’s-fiance’s-brother who lived there. We had 2 cars, with my brother and his fiance in one, and myself and my buddy in another. Another level to the plan was that our car had to go to Orlando to pick up my buddy Tony, who had been in the Bahamas with his parents (rough life, eh?) and was flying there to meet up with us and then head to the ‘Glades. 

My brother’s fiancé also had other business to tend to in that they were going to go have breakfast with her grandfather, who lived somewhere on Florida’s west coast. So all of that would have been hard enough to engineer…even without the presence of evil drugs.

Now I don’t know how many of you are familiar with methadone, but basically it’s what you get if you’re trying to kick heroine. The latter drug, I’ve never had a use for, or desire to do (that shit killed Jerry), but I was told that methadone was a good-feeling, keep-you-awake-and-wanting-to-drive sort of buzz. We had a few of these pills by virtue of the fact that we happen to know this guy who has AIDS, and as sad as that condition is, he’s a great guy who gets more pharmaceuticals than he will ever need.

So anyways, we go to ATL, eat some spaghetti and hit the road. A bit later, the drivers (my brother and myself) pop these pills to help us ‘push on till the day’ so to speak. Well I must say that I felt pretty awesome for a good 5 hours or so. Mainly just ultra-content and aware…I was very much in the zone as far as driving was concerned. We crossed the Florida state line at dawn, and at a rest stop, my brother relayed to me that he felt like absolute shit and was going to throw up. Thinking that that attitude had no place on this trip, I rudely responded, “Tough it out you big pussy! We’re finally in Florida goddamit!” (brotherly love is beautiful isn’t it?)

So the cars split up, and we head southeast towards Orlando. It was right about this time that the Florida sun started to rise and shine right at us. I squinted to keep an eye on the road, as I had no sunglasses, and I started to become utterly aware that I had no business wearing the clothes I had on….layers of shirts and a hoodie were good for Cincinnati in December, but not in Florida with the sun drenching you head on. 

I started sweating profusely out of every pore in my body. The back of my mouth started watering, giving me that gagging feeling as if I was about to throw up. What I did not know then, but know now is that methadone is one of those drugs that reacts with a lot of other stuff. Apparently caffeine is one of those ‘red flags’ that you’re not supposed to take with methadone EVER. Well shit, I had been drinking coffee all night…you don’t just drive to Florida without coffee!! To us, that was just a given.

Well, we finally pull into the Orlando airport, and as I stumbled out of the Bronco, I could barely walk. My whole body was very tingly, but it wasn’t that good tingly. We got inside, and I immediately went to the bathroom to try to puke. I really wanted to, but when I gagged, it was just dry heaves…I guess there wasn’t enough food in my stomach. I was supposed to call Tony’s cell phone so that we could meet up with him. But let me just say that the people at the Orlando airport were giving me no love whatsoever. 

I mean, this is the home to Disney’s Magical Kingdom, there is no room for some scrubby hippie all messed up on some foreign substance. I went into the gift shop, where statues of Mickey and Snow White sneered at me with disgust, and I asked the lady at the counter if she could give me change in order to call Tony’s cell, but alas she refused. Thanks a lot, I thought, my insides are melting and you can’t even break a $1 bill. 

I tried to get my bearings and continued to saunter through the airport full of wholesome families from around the world who were ecstatic to be making their pilgrimage to Disney World. As I navigated through the hoards of Mouseketeers, I finally found the information both. At last, someone would help me out, and the girl paged Tony for me.

Meeting up with Tony was great, except for the fact that I felt so terrible, and he had just flown back from Nassau. His mind and his mouth were full of all kinds of great stories about palm trees, festivals and gorgeous women. He wanted to tell me all about it, and I did my best to explain to him that I’d love to hear his tales, but at the moment I felt like dying. I figured that I better get something in my stomach so that I’d be able to puke and get this horrid toxin out of my body. I ate a bowl of soup and a bagel at the airport snack bar, and then we got back into the Florida sun and hit the road.

At this point, I was just happy that I didn’t have to drive anymore and that hopefully I’d be able to get a little sleep in the back seat. Well, another thing about Orlando is that they have an inordinate amount of toll booths there. The acceleration out of one of these was enough to churn up the contents of my stomach, and in one projectile motion, I ejected it’s contents. Luckily, I had the presence of mind to grab a plastic bag just in time, or else I’d have chucked all over the whole car. 

After that, I fell into an uneasy sleep, but it was a sleep that I had been longing for. The amazing thing is that when we tried to meet back up with my bro and his fiancé, we had a very vague plan. We were to meet them, “at the first gas station you see when you get off this exit.” Well, apparently they had arrived at that gas station about a minute before we got there! So we were reunited at last and we both finally felt better. 

It was early afternoon and we cranked up the Dead on the stereo, sparked a joint, and followed the lines going south towards Big Cypress. It was clear sailing until we got to Alligator Alley, but that, as many of you know, is another story.

- Mojo Hamilton