The "official" story is that his phone battery died and would not accept a charge and in the fun and hype of meeting someone, as well as it being Gay Pride Week, he "forgot" to check back in to let her know he was safe. He "forgot" to let her know he was having a great time and would be home later at some point. He spotted his face on the news one night as a missing person and he immediately called his Mom and everyone is happy that he is safe and sound and that he has met a guy he really likes. He likes him so much, in fact, he forgot about letting his Mom know he was alive before she started a city wide search, started a FaceBook page for any information leading to his whereabouts and bought a Internet domain site Help Find Evan to aid in finding her son.
Oops!
I busted up laughing as I read this! I am certainly glad he was found safe, sound, happy and enjoying himself, but this news story reminded me of another certain young man that I know. One late evening, the summer after High School graduation, he received a phone call from a friend who had moved to California. Before he had moved, his friend had given him a copy of Jack Kerouac's "On the Road" and challenged him to read it. They had never been incredibly close growing up, but had played soccer and basketball for the school together and hung around some of the same group of guys for over 10 years. His friend asked him if he wanted to go to lunch the following day and that sounded like a great idea to this man/boy. He asked what sounded good and his friend replied, "Fisherman's Wharf, Pier 39. Be there at Noon."
This is when the young man realized his friend was calling from Foster City, across the Bay from San Francisco and was partly joking about meeting for lunch. On a whim, (which is how this young man often did things) he accepted the challenge, said he would meet him there for lunch and launched his plan.
A bag was packed. He grabbed his wallet, some cash and his credit card (the first one he had ever had in his own name) and snuck out of his parents house ever so quiet. He rolled his Mustang out of the garage and down the drive way and only started it up once he was down the hill from his home. Wouldn't do to alert his Dad and Mom and possibly be caught and denied an adventure, would it? The engine and exhaust on that car could wake the dead, even at low rpm's.
He headed up North of the city to the airport, parked his car in long term parking and went into the terminal. He searched the different airlines until he found the next direct flight to San Francisco, purchased his ticket and waited for the red eye boarding call. In less than two hours, he was in the air and headed to California, no one the wiser, save him and his friend.
He made it to lunch on time. :)
He also spent a week running up and down and all around the hills of San Francisco with his school buddy. They hit City Lights Bookstore, sipped Irish Coffees on the Wharf, danced the nights away at Vesuvius They accidentally stumbled into Bondage-a-Go-Go looking like the teenage meat that they were and promptly ran out, laughing hysterically at the scene they saw and more than a little frightened as well. They watched the moon rise over Coit Tower and he left a full journal on a bench for a stranger to find One day they bought three dozen roses and handed them out to people downtown who looked like they needed one. One night the killed an entire bottle of Dewar's Scotch, wandered the length and breadth of the Castro and ended up collapsed together in some hotel on Nob Hill. They ate amazing foods and marveled at all the sights in China Town. In short, the had a Grand Adventure indeed!
About 5 days into said Adventure, the young man called his Mom to let her know he was "in town" hanging out with his "friend from school" and let her know that he would be staying at "his place" for a "few days". He really thought he had got away with it and pulled a fast one, considering his wandering and random ways were a pretty common thing in his family. She seemed to be buying the story and was pretty calm about it all.
He made one fatal error.
His Mom had caller ID at work and had noted the (415) area code. She asked him casually how California was? He stammered and replied they would prolly not be eating at Californio's (a restaurant in KCMO) due to the cost, but would prolly just grab a bite to eat somewhere cheap today. She then pointedly asked how the Ocean was? At this point, he knew the gig was up and confessed the whole escapade while standing in his friends kitchen. His Mom listened to it all and calmly asked when he would be home. He replied in a breathless and non-committal way, something about that weekend possibly, so she politely informed him that his Dad and her would be more than happy to pack his belongings and ship them to his new home in California. She only needed to be provided with his new address at some point and promptly hung up the phone.
He instantly called back. "I will be home on Monday, Mom!", he blurted out in a panic. His Mom was NOT one to bluff.
"You will be home on Saturday evening", she replied curtly, in that no nonsense manner he knew too well.
"I will be home on Saturday", he answered back meekly, certainly subdued.
She wished him a pleasant time and told him to enjoy himself and that they would talk after his return that weekend. He finished out the week with his friend and truly had the experience of a lifetime. His very first REAL adventure. He still remembers every detail about it to this day...
daemon
PS: The ONLY problem his Dad and Mom had with the entire escapade was the fact that he forgot to leave a note on the refrigerator. After that stunt, he ALWAYS left a note...no matter how incredible, ridiculous and bizarre it might have read.
PSS: His parents still have those notes. :)
My parents were always like that. They simply wanted to know two things:
ReplyDelete1. Roughly where I was. (In town, in another town, in another state. And which state, if the last one.)
2. When I planned on coming home.