A tale of two Garths. Chapter 49. “IT’S NOT FUNNY!”


There was really only one word to describe the morning on the San Juan River. Awe-inspiring. The sky was so amazingly blue. A blue you never really saw in LA. The sun played off the canyon rock and set off an amazing  kaleidoscope of color. For a small moment in time I actually envied the people who lived in this area of the US. But then I remembered they couldn’t buy booze after 6 pm and on Sundays. What kind of life is that? However, I was enjoying my time with my companions. My friends. My peeps.

“MOTHER FUCKER!” Mother fucker? “Jesus Christ!” Okay, now I was starting to look around and I was fairly certain Jesus wasn’t on the trip. I stood my ground outside of the hotel room soaking up the Utah sun because the expletives that were now coming out of my room were starting to offend the Christians also staying at the Inn.

I’m so sorry,” I said to people walking by. “Really, I’m super sorry.” But what exactly was I sorry about? Then there was silence. And not the silence is golden type of silence. This was the kind of silence that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up right before you got bludgeoned to death by a serial killer staking out the San Juan River hotel. I was petrified. Garth is in there. Maybe I should go help him. But what if the serial killer is in there too? This is just like the hitcher movie. My imagination was running wild. It’s better of only one of us die. One is a tragedy, two is a just over kill. Over kill. That’s kinda funny.

“Hey Stace,” Adam said to me as he walked up on me putting together the plot for Hitcher part Deux. Revenge of the Stoners.

“What’s up?”

“Shhhhh….,” I told him. “You’re brother’s up to something in there.” Adam stuck his head inside the room. I knew this was going to probably going to be the end for Adam too. Once the serial killer got a hold of him he was a goner. All I could do at this point was hope and pray that Jonathon was the one with the car keys. Loosing friends is one thing. But being stranded in the middle of Utah is another. And that’s when I saw him. A mammoth of a man filled with rage in his eyes. The anger and hatred in heart seeped out of every pore. And then he spoke.

“The cooler leaked and got all over my book!” I wanted to tell Garth, I told you so. But that would have just made things so much worse. He just stood there with his book in his hand as if it was the last copy of the Bible and he was on a quest to deliver it to the holy land.

“Dude, it’s just a book. We can buy you another one,” Adam told him. Poor sweet naive Adam. Just a book? This wasn’t just a book. This was a book given to him by a person I can’t remember while working on a movie that went straight to DVD. Hell the person who gave it to him probably got it from the prop department. I know what you’re thinking. Stacy you are such a bitch! And while that may be a very true statement, let me point out the fact that in the 6 1/2  years that Garth and I were together I had never, ever, once seen him read a book. Ever! And it’s not like the cooler was just singling out his precious book. The cooler was an equal opportunity destroyer. Meaning that all my shit got ruined as well. And I actually read books.

From there on out is was a really long day. Garth was being a baby over his stupid little book. So much so that his attitude ruined breakfast and a good portion of what was supposed to be a 3-hour drive to Durango. The emotional temperature inside the car can best be described as “icy.” We had to cross back through a portion of the Navajo nation to get to Durango, and we spent a majority of the time in silence. The only good thing that came out of what is now known as the cooler incident, was the fact that Garth was so mad at Adam and myself that he decided to sit shotgun next to Jonathon, who was once again driving. Because of the leak, Adam had come up with the brilliant idea of drying off the magazines, the regular insignificant books I read, and the infamous most bestest book ever known to man by laying everything in the back window so the sun could dry them out. Every now and then, Adam and I would rotate the reading materials and flip through the pages ensuring that the pages weren’t getting stuck together. And that’s when it happened. Adam reached back onto the window for another rotation when he came across a magazine that had fallen down into the crack in the bottom left side of the window. We never saw it. All we did was keep rotating books and magazines on top of it pushing it down further and further with every rotation. As Adam held the now horribly disfigured magazine in his hand he silently mouthed the words, “Whose is this?” With out so much as a sound, not even a peep, I pointed my right index finger to the back of Garths seat. And that’s when the explosion went off. Laughter. Adam and I laughed so hard I could no longer breath. As he doubled over in a fit of hysterics I could see Jonathon’s shoulders starting to shake. He just couldn’t help himself. He had to join in.

“IT’S NOT FUNNY!” Garth boomed. All I could see from where I was sitting was a blond head sitting on top of a very red neck. “Oh my God he’s so mad he turned himself red.” But no matter how mad he was the laughter grew. All the tension of the morning seeped out of us in giggles and snorts. Until finally he broke and I heard an ever so slight chuckle.

After a ride that should have taken 3 hours, but ended up taking 5 due to a traffic jam on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. We finally ended up in Durango for my last and final pig roast. As I jumped out of the car to hug the people who had become my family, I never felt the shift. The ever so slight rotation of the universe. My life was about to change. Dramatically.

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