Rocking The House

Jack's driving didn't help my stomach feel any better, Jack's driving in Montreal traffic....what was I thinking? Plus, why the hell didn't we take showers before we left? Oh my god, between the two of us the car smelled like a dump.

“You know what I miss?” I was trying to adjust my seat so I could put my feet on the dash. “I miss your mom’s cookies.”

“I think mom misses baking them for you. She baked more in the year that you were around than she ever did for the rest of us. I’ll tell her to send you some when you get to Pittsburgh.”

“That would be sweet.” I grabbed my water bottle from the cup holder and changed the song on my iPod.

“Jesus Sid, what are we listening to?”

“Hey, I had to listen to the Spice Girls, you can put up with a bit of Three Doors Down.” Jack didn’t reply, but just stared at the road.

“Remember when we went and saw Tim McGraw?” Jack asked.

“Yes, that was epic. I’m not much a country fan, but that guy can put on a show.”

“Well do you have any Tim McGraw on your iPod? Can we please listen to that instead? I think my head might explode.” I grabbed the iPod off shuffled through the songs until I came to ‘Something Like That’ a song that Jack and I both lived our lives by when we were in school. Trying to catch the cute the girl in the mini skirt, it brought back some good memories for both of us.

“Remember when I tried to ask out Sadie Waters? She was the hottest girl and school and she just laughed in my face. I thought for sure since I was Sophmore on the varsity team she would want to go out with me.”

“Ha, yeah Sid, she was also a Senior.”

“So, age doesn’t really matter that much does it?” I laughed as I cranked up the song. Before we knew it both Jack and I were belting out the lyrics. “I had a barbeque stain on my white t-shirt.”

We were passing through Quebec City when we decided to stop and get something to eat. Nothing like a little St. Hubert Poutine to cure any hangover. “I can’t believe people who live in Quebec aren’t fatter. Eating this everyday? I’d be obese if I lived here.” Jack was busy shoving his face full of poutine. “This is amazing, how come we don’t have this in the states?” He said between mouthfuls.

“Maybe you should retire from hockey and open a poutine shop. I could be your silent partner and we could spread the word to America about creating the perfect poutine.” I poured some pepper on my bowl and got down to curing my hangover.

“That’s it, I’ll open my own poutine and smoked meat sandwich shop on the University campus. I’ll be rich!”

I rolled my eyes at him. “You are rich Jack.”

“Not as rich as you Sid. Did you check your receipt from last night?”

“No. Why?”

“Just curious, I’m surprised you were able to sign for it.”

“I’m surprised my credit card ended up in my wallet. I was expecting it to be long gone.”

“I took good care of you bud, you had nothing to worry about.”

“Right, nothing to worry about except a naked woman in my bed and a tattoo on my ass. You took great care of me.”

“Stop your whining, I could have left you in the stairwell to sleep it off. I’m sure security would have had a hay day finding Sidney Crosby in the stairwell passed out drunk. I can hear you dad calling you now.” He put his hand up to his ear like he was answering the phone. I reached across the table the smacked him in the arm. “Ouch!” He rubbed his arm. “What was that for?”

“Just because I can. Now let’s go. It’s going to late by the time we get home. Which reminds me, I should call my mom to make sure she’ll be home tonight.” I grabbed my phone and dialed the familiar number to my parents house. I let it ring about six times before hanging up. They didn’t have voicemail anymore, too many fan girls calling them over the years. I texted my mom instead. “Where are you?” I thought it was vague enough that it wouldn’t give away I was coming. My mom was terrible with texting, I’d be surprised if she even knew how to reply.

We finished up our food and were on the road again.

“God Sid, you stink. Did you just fart?”

“You know me, I would have told you if I had farted, I think I just have a permanent stench hanging over me. I need a shower, badly.”