For the past few weeks I’ve written about ghosts and my car. On both occasions I had friends clamoring for me to tell a story that happened a couple of years ago. Actually, we’re coming up or have passed the two year anniversary recently. Anyway, here it is…
A couple of years ago, my friends and I became aware of a fucking fantastic practice called “ghost riding”. The process is simple. You take a car, bus or moving vehicle. You blast some gangsta’ ass shit on that vehicle’s “system”. Everyone jumps out of the car and proceeds to dance all stanky-like. It’s probably the greatest thing ever done in or around a car since Back to the Future.
We were fascinated with the idea of doing this. We joked and joked about how awesome it would be to ghost ride. We had whips–“cars”. We had the moves–“dance steps”. We had the X factor–ME. We eventually decided to do that shit.
I haven’t made it clear to any of you that these “friends” of mine are actually residents in the building that I was a Resident Assistant for. I was willingly partaking in a slightly illegal and dangerous activity with kids I was supposed to look after. But whatev’. SENIORS RULE!
I put together an instructional packet from random things I found on Google. I stapled them together and held a meeting. We discussed safety techniques, like staying away from wheels and the proper manner to do the “running man”. We also watched videos of successful and catastrophic ghost rides. Some people get “run over” or “severely damage their vehicles” or “get arrested”. That didn’t matter to us. This shit was going to happen. And we were going to film it.
Step 1: Scope out a spot
We decided that ghost riding during the day would a dangerous proposition. Also, doing it on campus was strictly out because of my job. The boys were from Oak Hill, so they suggested doing it at Burger Stadium at night. OK. PLACE PICKED OUT. This was going to make filming difficult, but we were going to try anyway.
Step 2: Attire
We had to look fucking stupid doing this. We decided to up our game by dressing fucking stupid.
Step 3: Vehicles.
Step 4: Playlist
What are you going to ghost ride to? Better yet, what are you willing to die to? I don’t exactly remember the playlist but it was probably something like
B.G. – Bling Bling
Something by Three 6 Mafia
ANYTHING FROM DA SouF!
In fact, I wrote a song in my dorm room to mark this occasion.
Step 5: Execute.
It’s a Friday night and we set the plan in motion. We get to Burger Stadium. We drive into the parking lot and decide to go around back, away from the highway. Cops could see us from there. We got to around back and turned off our headlights. Well, two cars with their headlights turned off just drove around behind a stadium. Before we knew it there was a cop blazing at us with his lights going nuts! Darby and I pull our cars over and just look at each other. FUCK. I was scared because I thought this was going to get really complicated really soon. I was running through excuses to run by my boss for when he found out about this.
The cop asked for my license and registration. I got out my insurance slip, but I couldn’t get my license out.
“Oh, sorry, officer. I can’t get it out. It seems to be stuck in there real deep.”
From the back of my car, Patrick yelled,
“THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!”
I was going to straight up murder him. Who says that?! The cop just chuckled and took my card when I handed it to him.
We explained to him that we were just lost and looking to go to Oak Hill for a friend’s party. That explained our elaborate costumes. He told us where Oak Hill was and warned us that he could have arrested us if he wanted to. Lies. But, it scared me enough.
Britt and Darby were convinced that there was a Church parking lot with lighting and secluded enough that no one would care if we ghost rode there. We drove for a few minutes and circled the entire church grounds. It didn’t feel safe. You know me and churches.
After a failed night and with our tails between our legs we did what any normal college kids would do and drowned our sorrows in delicious Whataburger sandwiches.
The rodeo was in town, and a bus full of drunken redneck women pulled up. We decided to have some fun that night. We quickly discussed what we were going to introduce ourselves as. We were the nationally acclaimed ska band Hufflepuff. We were into Harry-Potter-core ska and had the song titles to prove it. It was me and Patrick on guitar. Britt was the lead singer. Darby was drums, and I think Willa was on the keys. So we spent the next hour chatting up drunken older women in a shady Whataburger dressed like buffoons.
Then I went to bed.