March, 1993 ~ The Struttin’ Duck ~ Auburn, AL
I’m sitting here reflecting on one of the most creative Spring Break trips I’ve ever crafted. The Duck isn’t the best atmosphere for heavy thinking, but this might be the first time I’m not dizzy within these walls and I need to take advantage. I suppose I shouldn’t complain about the place; they do allow me to sit in here with a beer sweating through a plastic 12 oz cup and I’m only 20 years old. It’s only fitting anyway seeing as my adventure started here 10 days ago…
I’m as broke as any college student is I suppose. One of those “keep the atm receipt that says ‘Balance: $6′ in case you’re ever rich for novelty” kinds of broke. My job leasing apartments at College Park is steady enough, but when it starts getting warm again in Auburn expenses just start going up. It can’t really be explained. There’s gym memberships, tanning bed sessions, and too many road trips to count. Same old story short: I had a $100 check from the parents to my name and Spring Break was a week away. There wasn’t anything in my pantry to even get through the week before the break and the crew was heading to the Keys. All this was manageable with $100. That’s a king’s ransom to a college kid. The big challenge was my exam schedule. Everyone was leaving on Wednesday and I couldn’t leave until Friday night. I wouldn’t trust my car, “Rosie”, to make it to Atlanta; much less the most southern point of the States. So I was faced with feeding myself for a week, passing an exam, and getting to the Keys with no car and no ride. What did I do? I came to the Duck.
I formulated a plan that I knew was a longshot, but I had no choice. I had to make it work. I went to Kroger and bought $70 worth of food which was meant to get me through not only the week prior to the break, but the break as well. I figured that most of your expenses during a road trip are on food and gas. I had nowhere to put gas, so I loaded up on food. I bought as many non-perishable goods as I could fit in a backpack. I threw in a bowl, a spoon, a fork, and a can opener and then set it next to the front door. I had $30 left.
I lived that week pretty thin. I never touched the $30. I waved everyone goodbye on Wednesday and promised them they would see me in the Keys.
“I can’t promise when, and I don’t know how, but I’ll be there. By bus, boat, or B52 Bomber…watch for me in every direction including up.”
My test on Friday went as well as could be expected with nothing more than palm trees and sunsets floating around in my mind. But I was present, and they received a scantron with my name on it. That’s all that really mattered. I sat on the couch and burned a hole in that backpack staring through it blankly. I really had no ideas. Auburn was a ghost town. Everyone had left me behind. It occurred to me briefly that I could just let it go and relax in town while waiting for others to bring the stories home. But that wasn’t my style. I threw some clothes in a bag, snatched up my ration pack and fired Rosie up in the parking lot. When Auburn appears to be hibernating, there’s only one place to find any action…Wire Road.
I pulled up to the Struttin’ Duck and parked with about 7 other cars. Inside I found a plethora of personalities, but oddly no one that I recognized. After a few beers I started talking to two girls at the bar. Standard procedure I realize, but I had an ulterior motive. I overheard them talking about driving to Orlando that night. It was a rare and lucky strike, so I jumped on it. an hour later my food, my clothes, my $27 (beers at the Duck) and I were all stuffed in the back seat of a car rolling south out of Alabama.
The girls were more than accommodating. They didn’t even ask for gas money. I didn’t really have a plan once we reached Orlando, but all I cared about was that it landed me south of where I started. One of my friends from high school is in school at the University of Central Florida and he was in the back of my head. I had no idea whether he was even in town; for all I knew he was on break himself. We hadn’t really talked lately, but I did know what fraternity he was in. That was the best clue I had.
I was dumped on the OBT or Orange Blossom Trail for those not familiar with the strip bar/corner hooker scene in Orlando. I looked a lot like Axel Rose as he stepped off the bus in the beginning of the “Welcome To The Jungle” video. I found a pay phone that still had a functioning receiver and a phonebook. After a few calls to the university lines, I finally had the phone at his frat house ringing. Whoever answered informed me that there was an event that he would definitely be attending in an hour or so, but he had no idea where Chad was at the time. I got an address and hopped in a cab. Luckily I wasn’t far from where I needed to be and didn’t have to dip too far into my limited funds.
After a surprise reunion of sorts, partying a little with his fraternity brothers, and hitting on every girl that looked in my direction, the night abruptly ended. “Whack”, Chad’s little brother in the frat affectionately dubbed because he was not quite white or black, lifted his glass in the air in a toast directed toward no one in particular. After finishing a swig from his solo cup, incidentally his last one of the night, Whack slowly toppled forward and face first through the glass coffee table like something out of a movie. Chad and I took that as our cue and before long I was sleeping with a roof over my head and $20 still in my pocket.
The next part of my plan had a huge hole. I had a solid lead on a car coming out of Merritt Island, Florida and heading to Key West. Catherine Crisafulli’s family lives on the island and she was a “maybe” for Key West the last time I saw her in Auburn. I wasn’t sure when she would be leaving or if she even would, but I figured I could talk her into the idea if I got her on the phone. I had her family’s home number and planned on using it, but there wasn’t much reason for me to call if I couldn’t find myself situated in her line of fire. Therein lies the hole. I was still a little hung over and in Orlando.
I got another huge break when Chad rolled out of bed to tell me that he didn’t mind driving me over to Titusville. Titusville is the home of Florida Tech and we have another high school buddy playing baseball for the Panthers. Shoultz was surely in town because the season was in full swing. Titusville is situated just south of Merritt Island and Catherine would have to drive past the small town on her way to the Keys if she hadn’t already left.
About 3 hours later I was standing outside Shoultz’s apartment with my fingers crossed. My face was itchy as a bead of sweat made its way slowly down my cheek. I knocked and thankfully, a friendly face answered. I exhaled a burst of relief air and explained my situation. It took us about 20 minutes before we were at a local bar laughing over a beer. Before we left the house, I did have the presence of mind to use Shoultz’s phone for an all-important call. The answering machine picked up, so I left a desperate message.
When Shoultz and I returned to his apartment, my heart skipped a beat when I saw his answering machine light blinking red through the darkness. I had missed a call from Catherine, which was disappointing, but contact had been made and that was crucial. And the biggest unknown was brought to light…she was still home and was planning on driving as far as Coral Gables the next morning. She wouldn’t be home the rest of the night, but she would try to reach me in the morning. Not wanting to take the chance of missing her call, I called the family home back and left what has to be one of the oddest messages her parents, whom I’ve never met, have ever heard. It went something like this:
“Mr. and Mrs. Crisafulli, I’m a friend of your daughter’s from Auburn. I didn’t want to miss her in the morning, so please tell her that I am planning on joining her for the ride to the Keys. And since I’m not sure of her exact schedule, I will just start walking south on I-95 from Melbourne until she spots and picks me up or I reach Islamorada, whichever comes first. Tell her to watch for me on the right side of the highway…she’ll know it when she sees me.”
Catherine knew me well enough to see me from about a mile away. I would be strikingly apparent with a bandana on my head and a bag over my shoulder. With that as the plan I caught some sleep and then had Shoultz drop me off along the highway west of Titusville early in the morning. I don’t own a watch, but I estimate that I was walking about 2 hours before I felt the rapid slowing of her little sports car brush the hairs on my left side. Dust rose through the air as she rolled to a stop about 100 yards in front of me on the shoulder. I was too tired and hot to sprint in her direction so I continued at my leisurely pace. When I reached her car we hugged and laughed but she never said a word. She just had a “this doesn’t surprise me a bit” smirk on her face.
After a brief gas stop where I purchased a $5 six-pack, we were off for south Florida. We stayed with some friends of hers in Coral Gables that night, leaving on the final leg early that next morning.
The bridge ride from key to key just past Miami was more than relaxing. I had that low buzz from the beers and the sun beat down on the water with white-hot intensity. Every aspect of that ride screamed vacation.
We reached the condo just after sunset. I sat in the car for a few minutes ripe with the anticipation of walking through that door and seeing the surprised looks on everyone’s faces. I had accomplished something. It took me 3 days from the night I was standing without a plan right where I sit today. The Duck was my launching point and the Keys my landing strip. I had touched down safely with a lot of help from friends and I felt like I deserved the next 5 days.
“Who likes to party!”
I stayed committed to my $30 believe it or not. I had enough food to cover me, even though I ended up eating like a refugee. I’m not a huge drinker, so I bought a case of beer with the rest of my money to cover my stay. I refused anyone that offered to buy me a drink, although I did give in to one offer from Rebel at the Tiki Bar in Islamorada only because I couldn’t bring in my own beer. Our friend Jen Meilan allowed me to stay without rent for the five days which was part of the deal if I actually made it. So, I had everything covered. As if the trip down and the stay wasn’t enough, I took a bet in the waning moments of the break. Someone brought up a question…
“I wonder what the record for riding naked in a car is?”
“I don’t know, but let’s find out if it’s more than 12 hours,” I replied.
And with that I rode 12 hours back to College Park in Auburn with no clothes on trading a unique form of entertainment for everyone for my portion of the gas money which I obviously didn’t have. I was even sitting shotgun through one of the toll booths which raised some heads. The only thing I refused to do was Rebel’s dare of getting out of the car and pumping gas.
As we rolled into Auburn, they made me run from the car to my apartment without my clothes, but I had enough stuff in my hands to cover all the important areas. The other thing I still had in my hands was a $1 bill, making it the best $29 Spring Break ever.
