Little did I know that on November 26th, 2017 I was in for the ride of a lifetime. My dear friend Ty, whom I supervise, agreed to pick me up at the airport as a supportive member of our Native community. He arrived adequately on time, despite my plane delay, and navigated through hectic and LOUD HONKING in the airport traffic. As we made our way onto the highway, he casually says, "Oh I think we should get gas?". I peer over to see the gasometer needle on the last red tick and the gas light on, while we go 95 down the interstate. Google Maps, usually so trusty, let us down by telling us the nearest gas station was a 13 minute drive, which was blatantly incorrect. Through the strength and knowledge of our minds we exited and found not one, but four gas stations. We fueled up, only to realize we had ten minutes to return the car. To say we were auditioning for the next Fast and the Furious movie wouldn't adequately describe the driving that was done that dark night. We were fleeting lane through lane, going 40 in a 25 past two cop cars, whipping illegal U turns like they were a blink of an eye. And suddenly, it was all over and we were back at our place of residence to perform hashing and other necessary deeds. Thank you.
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