Guilty Feet Have Got No Rhythm

By Sunday, Claudia had everything ready for tour. Our bags were packed, she gotten our ride sorted out, and all of her merchandise was ready to go. I was nervous, but excited. Here I was, given the chance to start over, to create myself and have a new adventure (that didn’t involve cross dressing).

However, both of our dreams of actually having a good time were crushed when we arrived at the designated meeting spot and saw our ride. Now, I am not the kind of person that has to have the perfectly expensive ride or that I cannot be seen riding in any car other than a limo. But this, this was ridiculous.

The van was, for lack of other word, disgusting. It smelled, the seats were stained, and the outside looked like it needed at least a thousand baths to even resemble the color white.

“Oh my god,” Claudia swallowed nervously, staring at the disgusting van. “That is…”

“Yeah, it is,” I agreed in disgust. “Is that…blood?”

“I think I just threw up a little in my mouth,” Claudia murmured, pressing a hand to her mouth. “It smells like Mark’s old football bag.”

“We cannot spend the summer in that death trap,” I hissed as I turned away from it. “We’re going to die from some disease!”

“I’m going to see how much it is to rent a bus…” Claudia rushed to the rental place, eager to get away from the van. She returned ten minutes later, a frown on her face and her arms tightly crossed. “Stupid bastards, making the costs so fucking high!”

“Do you really want the bus?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Claudia looked at me, and instantly shook her head. “Oh no, no you aren’t! I am not going to let you pay that much for a bus! We can fix up the van, make it look pretty!”

“Claudia, I’m not going to rent one,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “I can get one for free! Look, I heard from my mom’s assistant—”

“Ricky?”

“Yes, Ricky. Anyways, Ricky told me that there was an old bus they were planning on getting rid of, because they got a new one, or something, and we can totally get it! Plus, I know a really awesome driver who’ll help us out! C’mon, Claudia, it’ll be awesome!” I pleaded. “Oh, please, please, please, please!”

“Fine!” she shouted, waving her hand to shut me up. “Just, we need it by tonight.”

Three hours and several strings pulled later, the bus was pulling up into the parking lot. We had a bus with a driver; we had our merch, our luggage, and ourselves. This summer, I vowed, was going to be fantastic.