From Loved Ones & Friends
Letter from Samantha Levenberg
THE LONG RIDE HOME ...
Our bags were packed, the car was loaded, and most importantly, the Dramamine was digested. Or so Katie and I thought. It didn't take long for us to see that we were, in fact, wrong. It was Thanksgiving, 1999, and Katie and I were headed home for the holidays. We weren't close friends at college, but knowing that a true childhood friend, someone who knew all about the "real you" (not the fake "college you"), was nearby, helped make moving away a little easier. And now I adopted this dog. Penny. She was cute, for sure, but jeez could she get car sick! So now, Katie and I were off, with 5 month old Penny in tow, trying to get out of Vermont in the snow.
We were just over the crown point bridge when it happened. We both heard the heaving. Then the gag. Then it stopped. I pulled off in an abandoned bar (the kind they only have near the Vt. Border) and we both got out (actually all three of us). We didn't see any vomit anywhere. But we were sure we heard her throw up. Then I saw it It was all over Katie's sleeve. Closer to her back, but certainly there. I pointed it out and we both laughed. Hard. Soon our eyes were watering, but we managed to clean it up. More Dramamine was administered and we set off again.
The rest of the ride was uneventful. Katie and Penny slept some and I drove. We stopped occasionally for food/bathroom and then Katie showed us the "short cut" home. We were five minutes from home. Seriously, on Tennis Avenue. The heaving and gagging began again. I pulled over and saw that Penny had vomited on Katie's laptop. We laughed again, although not nearly as hard (after 7 hours of driving it's really not funny anymore) and decided to screw the cleaning. It could wait and I think Katie said "my mom can clean it up."
The ride was long and boring, but, as I'm sure it had before, Katie's sense of humor made it an a little easier.
Samantha Levenberg
