USA Road Trip: Part 2

It was May of 2022, and I felt a strong urge to continue my road trip. With a new fully electric car and more money saved up, nothing was stopping me. Before heading south again, I drove to Brooklyn to get my hair braided and purchased food at one of my favorite restaurants, Jen’s Roti Shop. I wanted to experience “home” one last time. I figured I would conclude my time in the northeast watching the sunset at Pier C Park in Hoboken, New Jersey, as my car charged up nearby. The park was full of young people having picnics, throwing frisbees, playing with their dogs, and hanging out by the pier. I found a spot to sit at the pier, watching the sunset and NYC skyline illuminate as darkness descended. As I enjoyed the view, I got in contact with my cousin Kenya and her boyfriend Matt, who were staying nearby. We met up briefly, and I gave them a test drive of my new car.

The culmination of my New York metropolitan activities put me in a great mood before my trip. The following day, with everything I needed already packed into my vehicle, the time had come to restart my journey. This time, I was headed toward Florida, with multiple stops on the way, but not knowing where I would end up after that.

One of these stops was Baltimore, where I was staying overnight. Three hours of driving later, I arrived at my first major stop. The plan that night was to visit a speakeasy called The Elk Room. I arrived at the bar’s location, but it would take me an hour to find its entrance. I walked by it numerous times without realizing it. That’s how well the speakeasy was hidden. I walked inside to a dimly lit room with live blues music playing. Old books sat on shelves that covered the walls and every corner of the bar. I sipped on my mixed vodka drink as I took in the ambiance. I stuck around until closing time before going back to my hotel to rest. I checked out of my hotel and drove to the Babe Ruth Birthplace and Museum nearby, where I learned of Babe Ruth’s inspiring story. This site is a must-see for all baseball fans. After the museum, it was time to keep moving.

Harrisonburg, VA

My next stop would consist of hiking in Virginia the next morning, specifically Shenandoah National Park. This would prove to be a disaster. As I drove to the designated hiking spot, there was a dense fog. Visibility was near zero as I weaved through the winding roads filled with trees without leaves. It was a scene reminiscent of the start of a horror movie. I arrived and contemplated my next move. Despite the fog, I decided to hike to the summit anyway. After an hour of strenuous climbing, I made it to the top. What was supposed to be panoramic views of the Appalachian Mountains was, instead, thick cloud cover. I couldn’t see anything more than five feet in front of me, and it was colder than expected. The hike was a bust, but I was in a great mood anyway and sang songs on my way back down. I found a restaurant with a buffet of Indian food called Taj of India, and it was shockingly good. I wasn’t expecting a small town like this to have decent food. After dinner, I stopped at Pale Fire Brewing for a couple of beers before continuing south. I drove for five hours, listening to a combination of podcasts and music, stopping only once to charge my car at a Tesla Supercharging station.

Asheville, NC

Finally, I arrived at my Airbnb in Asheville, North Carolina. The location was perfect in that I was only minutes from downtown but far enough that parking wasn’t an issue. I was greeted by my hosts, Joshua and Mandy. They were super friendly and gave me dozens of options for things to do while I was touring their city. My time in Asheville would mostly be spent brewery hopping and visiting restaurants. Asheville has more breweries per capita than any city in the United States, so I was in heaven. This city has a vibe similar to that of Denver, CO, and Austin, TX, in that there are friendly hipsters everywhere. I was meeting and having conversations with strangers wherever I went because people seemed eager to talk to me.

One such person was a woman named Larissa, whom I met towards the end of my time in Asheville. We hit it off so well that she invited me back to her house, where we hung out on her front porch. We ordered a pizza and talked for hours about philosophy, capitalism, science, foreign policy, and religion. She was one of the most intelligent women I’d ever met, and I was enjoying her company. It was getting late, so we hugged and parted ways.

The next morning, I did a day trip hike to Mount Mitchell State Park. This is the highest peak east of the Mississippi River. It was early in the morning, so I was the lone person at the summit. It was a peaceful time of self-reflection and prayer.

The following day was my last in Asheville. It was a fun morning of playing pinball at the Asheville Pinball Museum, food, and more beer drinking. The highlight of the day was the River Arts District. It’s a neighborhood full of graffiti art and gravel roads. I walked around for an hour in awe of the different murals.

After my graffiti tour, I got in my car and drove an hour south to Dupont State Forest. Once there, I hiked to three different waterfalls; Hooker Falls, Triple Falls, and High Falls. They were all short, easy hikes with spectacular waterfall views. On the way, the rivers were full of tadpoles. Butterflies slowly fluttered their wings on the vast greenery. Dragonflies moved rapidly through the brush of the forest, avoiding me as I got too close to them. Insects and birds, not visible to me, created a beautiful symphony with the confluence of the sounds of cascading waters. I was caught in the moment and forgot I needed to be at my next stop at a specific time.

Atlanta, GA

My sister lives right outside of Atlanta, and I did not want to keep her up waiting for me. My time in Atlanta was mostly about spending time with family, but I did venture out a few times as there were still things I wanted to see. One morning, I drove to Atlanta Breakfast Club, a brunch restaurant. When I arrived, dozens of groups were outside waiting for tables inside. With a crowd this large, I knew right away the food was going to be good. Since I was dining alone, I was able to get seating almost immediately. It was a loud and crowded atmosphere. People dined and talked loudly as 90s R&B music played on the speakers. I ordered the peach French toast, and it did not disappoint.

The next few days were spent brewery hopping in the Old Fourth Ward. My biggest reason for being in this city, though, was my sister’s birthday. I celebrated with her and her husband at a Rum Punch Brunch event. We drank rum, danced to dancehall and soca, and sang along to every song. It felt nice being surrounded by my West Indian culture. My time in Atlanta was short but fruitful nonetheless.

Charleston, SC

Charleston, South Carolina, is where my trip took a terrible and unexpected turn. At about 6:30 am, I walked to the lobby of my hotel for continental breakfast. When breakfast was done, I decided to walk outside to check on my car. As I approached, there was a pickup truck parked awkwardly in front of it, surrounded by three men in company outfits. One of them asks me, “Is this your car?”. Another says, “My bad, bro.” I get closer and see the front end of my car crushed in and hanging on the pavement. I remember barely reacting to it at the moment, but the anger came later.

They were contractors driving a company vehicle, so I knew my car was guaranteed to get fixed. I collected their insurance information but went through my insurance to fix the car, thinking this would expedite the process. It did not. I called my insurance, and there were zero body shops in South Carolina certified to fix my car. After much back and forth with an agent on the phone, I decided the best action I could take was to use a body shop in Tampa, Florida, since I would be there in a couple of weeks.

My car was my main source of income, so naturally, I was upset. I drove my beat-up car to Charleston Pier, where I stood and contemplated my life. I asked God, “Why me?”. I then sat down by the pier and opened my Twitter app. A shooting had just taken place at an elementary school in Uvalde, TX, where 19 children and two adults lost their lives. I’m sitting here stressing about a replaceable car while parents mourn their dead children. Suddenly, my problems felt insignificant.

Savannah, GA

A logical person would have gone back home after this mishap, but not me though. I pushed forward toward Savannah, Georgia. On the way, I stopped briefly at the Angel Oak Tree. It’s the oldest living oak tree east of the Mississippi River, so there was no way I was missing it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get close to it because of thunderstorms in the area. I was disappointed, but it was time to move on.

Soon, I was in Savannah. Between the cobblestone streets, trolleys, and homes, it felt like I walked into the 18th century. The first thing I did was visit the American Prohibition Museum. There were video clips of pastor Billy Sunday strongly condemning alcohol drinkers in his sermons. I learned about people like Carry Nation, a large woman who traveled around with a hatchet destroying bars. It was both an educational and humorous experience. A museum ticket came with a complimentary drink at the end, so that alone made it worth it.

Jacksonville, FL

Savannah was expensive, and I had to be more careful with how I was spending money since I no longer had income coming in. A friend in Jacksonville named Mary Ann offered to host me, so that’s where I went next. I was beyond grateful for a free place to stay. She’s an older lady I met at a conference in Chicago years prior, who was now a retiree in Florida. I could not have guessed I’d need her at this point in my life.

I spent much of my time hanging out with Mary Ann and her friend Kim. There was a free outdoor jazz festival happening that weekend, so they invited me to join them. Artists like Patti Labelle, Stephanie Mills, Kem, and Mindi Abair performed their best music. It was the end of May in Florida, so my clothes were soaked in sweat like I was tossed into a pool. During the day, there were maybe a couple thousand people out. It was a two-day event. When Patti Labelle headlined the second day, the crowds swelled exponentially. The only time I ever saw a large group of Baby Boomers sing songs this passionately in unison was in church. I was surrounded by happy, old people. This festival was a great entrance into Florida. My car getting hit was an unplanned occurrence, but so was this jazz event that I was having so much fun at. I accepted that there were going to be both positive and negative aspects to my trip, but it’s all part of my story.

Tampa, FL

Days later, I arrived in Tampa. After settling in, I drove to a Korean BBQ restaurant to have lunch with my old swing-dancing buddies. It felt so good to see them again. I lived in Tampa for eight years, so I built many close friendships in that time. A couple of days later, I met up with some friends in Ybor City: Wendy, Milton, and one other guy. It was a night of drinking and karaoke.

The next day, I met up with my friend Phil at a bar for military veterans, where another night of alcohol ensued. My friends love to drink, apparently. A Tampa Bay Lightning hockey game was on every TV in the bar. The excitement for this game was so intense it was jarring. I met a bunch of Phil’s friends and learned about their stories. It helped me understand the level of trauma soldiers have long after the war is over. Being in that bar, you can sense the strong brotherhood. These guys loved and looked out for each other. It was beautiful to witness.

I was having fun, but it was finally time for my body shop appointment. I arrived at the shop, only for them to tell me they were not certified to work on my car. I was dumbfounded because I booked this appointment through my insurance two weeks prior. I was assured, after asking multiple times, that this body shop could fix my car. After making calls to body shops, I found one on my Tesla app with openings in St. Petersburg, a neighboring city. They made an appointment for me to bring the car in in a week.

At this point, my money was draining fast. Not only was I still paying rent for my Philadelphia apartment, but I was also paying for accommodations on my road trip with no income coming in. I was trying to keep it cool, but I was feeling the pressure. I decided that I needed to drive to Clearwater Beach to clear my head. As I stood on the pier, watching parasailers elevated high above the ocean, I got a text from my friend Kathy. She invited me to come hang out with her and her girlfriend. When we met up, she had me laughing so hard that I momentarily forgot about my problems. Reality hit me later.

I was feeling stressed and restless, so I went on a solo, late-night walk through Ybor City. There was more activity than I expected for a Sunday night. After walking around for 20 minutes, I found a spot where I could be alone. I could still hear loud music from the nearby bars as drunk partygoers walked past me. As I sat watching people, a homeless man named Jeff asked me to buy him something to eat. I purchased food for both of us, and we sat and talked for a few hours. He was telling me his story, his future dreams, and how he wanted to get his life back on track.

As he was talking, he stopped abruptly and turned around, hiding, mumbling under his breath, “Ah shit.” Another homeless man approached us, yelling at him and threatening his life. He was the buffest homeless man I had ever seen. He looked like a broke Mr. T. I sat quietly watching Jeff, who was clearly scared, interact with the muscle man. The buff guy turned to me suddenly and started threatening to shoot me for laughing at him. I was confused because I was sitting there quietly the entire time. This is when I actually started laughing in his face, and we had an exchange of words. He got upset and stormed off. There were a bunch of cops 200 feet from us dealing with another situation, so I had no fear of his empty threats.

The following morning, the time had come for my body shop appointment. The good news was I finally got it into a shop. The bad news was I did not know when the work would be completed. There was a severe parts shortage because of the COVID-19 pandemic, so wait times were more unpredictable than usual. My insurance provided a rental for 30 days, a Chevy Equinox. I was annoyed to be back in a slow, gas-guzzling vehicle. Now, I had to pay $60 a fill up for gas while using a Tesla Supercharger, which was on average between $8-$15. This compounded my already high expenses, but at least I could start making money again. I legally couldn’t do Lyft until my car got fixed, but I was still able to make money with Uber Eats, Shipt, Instakart, Doordash, and Amazon Flex. It was way less than my usual income, but it slowed down my rapidly depleting bank account balance.

I lay down contemplating my next steps and started to feel overwhelmed. I fell asleep briefly and was startled awake by my vibrating phone. It was my friend Courtney texting me to make plans to meet up. We had not seen each other in 10 years, so I was excited.

The following afternoon, Courtney and I met up in downtown Tampa. We started our journey at Henry Plant Museum for a history lesson and to admire Victorian architecture. I won’t bore you with the details, but this museum was once a hotel during the late 19th and early 20th century. It had all of the original furnishings of that time. After our fascinating lesson on Tampa Bay history, we were feeling hungry. We headed to Armature Works, which is a repurposed structure with dozens of eateries and live music along the river. This is something that didn’t exist when I lived in Tampa a decade prior, so it was a new experience for me. When I walked inside, I was overwhelmed by the amount of food options but ultimately decided on tacos. It was a fruitful time of great food and great conversation. I spent the next couple of days watching hockey with friends and checking out new restaurants.

I was staying with the sister of a friend in Tampa, who wasn’t charging me much, but it was still a drain on my disposable cash. I had the option of staying with family right outside of Orlando, but that would come with extremely limited income potential. Another option was to book another stay in Tampa, but it would be more expensive. I decided to stay with my cousin Kiera for a week and figure it out later.

Orlando, FL

My time in Orlando was all about spending time with my family. It was my cousin Kiera’s birthday, so we had dinner together at a nearby restaurant, along with her sister Kenya. The celebration continued the following night with a 3-hour drive to Miami. It was four of us: Kiera, Kenya, Matt, and I. We bar-hopped and walked through the Wynwood District for much of the night. People filled the streets as different genres of music blared from every corner.

As the bars started to close, we wanted the fun to continue, so we rented Revel scooters. It was 4 am, and the streets were empty, so we drove around until the sun came up. We rested for a few hours and then headed north to Fort Lauderdale, where we sat at Dania Beach, watching the sunset. It was a tiring drive back home but well worth it for the amount of fun we had.

I spent the next few days hanging out with my mom’s sisters and other cousins. One thing that’s true about West Indian aunties is that they will feed you well. I was guaranteed to never go hungry as long as they were around. Every time I visit, they try and convince me to move closer to them. The food was so good that I briefly considered it, ha. Unfortunately, Florida is simply too hot for me.

As the days passed, my birthday was quickly approaching. My sister drove down from Georgia with her family, and my dad flew in from Chicago for business, so we had breakfast together at IHOP. My birthday was the next day, and reality hit me that I wasn’t getting a call from my mom. This would be my first birthday without her.

As we ate, my body began to shut down. I kept going in and out of consciousness. I could hear my family saying my name, but I couldn’t respond. My hands were shaking, and I was having trouble breathing. My body relaxed after a few minutes, and tears started to flow down my face like an open faucet as my family tried to comfort me. My dad closed the tab so we could leave, but my coordination was off, and I couldn’t stand without falling over. Eventually, I was able to walk on my own, but the entire ordeal was embarrassing. My family and I spent the rest of the day at Cortez Beach in Bradenton, FL. I was feeling relaxed and at peace after a good cry.

The next day, my sister, brother-in-law, and cousins took me to an Orlando nightclub to celebrate my birthday. We had our own section where waitstaff arrived all night with a never-ending flow of drinks. The DJ was playing all my favorite dancehall and soca songs. I was dreading this day, but I was filled with immense joy to be surrounded by family on the 35th anniversary of my birth.

The next day, I had to be in Tampa as I was invited to speak to a class of elementary school students about world travel. Public speaking terrified me, so I was filled with anxiety for the entire hour-and-a-half drive. As I stood in front of the class and started speaking, they interrupted me constantly to ask questions because they were so excited. This eased any anxiety I had. They were eager to hear about my experiences, and I was happy to share. I hope that I inspired at least one of them to start traveling once they reached adulthood.

I had now gone a week without making money, so I had to make a decision. I booked a week-long stay in Tampa at an Airbnb studio. The next day, I received a call from the body shop saying that my car would be ready to be picked up by the end of the following week. I was ecstatic. I spent the next few days visiting craft breweries and lounging on beaches.

July 4th had come, and depression was hitting me hard. Unexpectedly, I received a text from my friend Kiara from Colorado that made my night. It was a Facebook memory from a birthday celebration in 2015. It reminded me that although my mother is gone, I am still blessed to have incredible friends and family who care about me. This was the motivation I needed to get out of the house.

I drove to Armature Works for the fireworks show. Independence Day was the last time I saw my mom in person, alive and conscious. Little did I know that she would go into a hospital only two months later and never come out. As I watched the fireworks, I remembered that I got into a petty, political argument with her that day a year ago. This was one of our last in-person conversations, so I was filled with regret. Explosions and colorful lights filled the sky as the large crowd around me looked up in excitement. I looked on as I fought to hold back my tears.

Joy would soon come two days later. It was time to pick up my car, so my time in Tampa was coming to an end. It took two months, but my car was finally fixed and looking brand new. My friends held a barbecue for me to celebrate my departure. I was thankful for this thoughtful send-off. I was off to Miami!

Miami, FL

I’m not a fan of extreme heat, so going anywhere during the day was not an option for me. This was July in Miami, so it was unbearably hot. On my first night, I drove to a food spot near my Airbnb called Uptown 66. I was annoyed by the excessively loud music, but once I received my food, my mood changed completely. I ordered a shrimp burrito, and it was incredible. The cook must have been Jesus because the flavor was heavenly.

Crowded beaches and overpriced liquor are of no interest to me, so this Miami trip was mostly about seeing friends and enjoying good food. One such friend was Rosalinda. I drove to her place without warning and texted her to come outside because I bought her Chick-fil-A. Then we sat in my car, eating and cracking jokes for an hour. We talked about how cool it was that we went from Twitter buddies to real-life best friends.

After we parted ways, I drove to Wynwood neighborhood to check out a couple of breweries. My first stop was J. Wakefield Brewing. As I sat enjoying my flight of beer, one of the employees started setting up a TV at every table filled with Nintendo games. There was Super Mario, Star Fox, Ninja Turtles, and dozens of other games. It revived happy memories from my childhood. As I continued playing games, pushing the controller buttons feverishly, my phone started to vibrate on the table.

It was my friend Stacy, who lived in north Miami, responding to an earlier text to meet up. We are both of Trinidadian heritage in a city rich in West Indian culture, so we decided to meet at Naz Roti Shop for a meal. We talked at length about new things happening in our respective lives and about a new network marketing business venture she was pursuing. I listened intently while eating a goat roti as soca music played in the background. It may be because I haven’t had it in a while, but it was one of the best roti I’ve ever tasted. After lunch, we embraced and parted ways.

When the sun went down, I headed to Miami Beach to enjoy the shore with less heat and even fewer crowds. This became my nightly ritual during my time in Miami. Despite it being nighttime, the heat and humidity were still unbearable. I started to wonder why Americans liked coming to this city so much. I hated everything about Miami except for the food.

Still, I wanted to make the most of the time I had left, so I booked a Skyline boat tour. Three ladies visiting from Atlanta joined also, which made it more interesting. The boat captain pointed out the massive homes of the CEO of Pfizer, Ricky Martin, Pharrell, and other celebrities as he drove through Miami’s shoreline. My first thought was that this will all likely be underwater soon because of climate change. The view from this vantage point was incredible, though. We had a full view of the skyline with the sun setting in the background.

As we continued to traverse through the waters, the Atlanta ladies asked if they could play music. They connected to Bluetooth and started loudly playing songs from Megan the Stallion, Cardi B, and City Girls. They all got up and twerked for the entire ride. I was impressed with the strength of their knees and thighs and gyrating hips moving to the rhythm of the beats. These ladies were clearly incredibly skilled at their craft. As the boat tour came to an end, so did the free show. I tipped the driver and thanked him for his time.

I headed to Miami Beach for one last time. I stood on the sand as saltwater gently covered my toes and reflected on my trip. I was getting hungry, so I walked to The Lobster Shack. On the way, a woman yells out to me, “It’s the outfit for me!”. I smiled and thanked her for the compliment. If you want to make a male stranger’s day, then give him a genuine compliment because we don’t hear it often. I finished my final overpriced but delicious meal in this city and headed straight to bed. The next day, I was headed further south than I’d ever been before in the United States.

Key West

I didn’t spend long in Key West, but it was one of the most memorable parts of my journey. It was a 4-hour drive, which was longer than I expected it to be. There was a torrential downpour followed by sunny skies. This pattern would repeat itself for most of the drive. When I finally arrived, free parking was difficult to come by. I’m stubborn, though, so I kept looking. Thirty minutes of circling later, I found a spot. When I got out of my car, the heat and humidity smacked me in the face like I owed it money. Key West is the southernmost point of the United States, so that was expected. From that moment, I decided to become a nocturnal animal. My face would only be seen in public at night. The streets during the day were empty. I was so shocked by the lack of people that I wondered if maybe the rapture happened, and I got left behind. Once I checked into my hotel, I didn’t leave my room for hours.

It was almost 10 pm by the time I decided to get up and go for a walk. To my surprise, the streets were now packed with people. Lively bars and nightclubs lined the blocks, simultaneously playing hip-hop, R&B, and pop hits. Walking without bumping into people was impossible. I had a plethora of nightlife options but decided to walk into Rick’s Bar. I bought a drink and found a spot where I could watch people and enjoy the music. Drinks were expensive, so it was the only one I bought. I sat with my finished drink, chewing the ice in my cup and bopping my head to the music, watching the 20-somethings have a good time. After a couple of hours, I started to doze off in the corner multiple times, so it was time to leave.

After much-needed rest, it was time to explore the city. I was curious about a kava bar across the street from my hotel, so that’s where I went first. It was brightly lit by sunlight entering the glass exterior. There was an enormous sign on the wall reading “Kava Life.” I sat at the bar as a friendly employee explained the different drinks to me. The options were overwhelming, so I picked one at random. Minutes later, I began to feel more mellow, calm, and happy. My elevated mood made me more friendly, so I started having a conversation with a beautiful blonde woman seated next to me. I learned that she used to live in Key West but now lives in Boston, MA, with her partner and newborn. She opened up to me that she was miserable and missed her old life in the Florida Keys, where she was single with no kids. This conversation left me wondering if a partner and kids would ruin my life like it did for this lady. I ruminated on that potential future reality for the rest of the day.

It was time to get the day moving, so I finished up my kava drink and continued my exploration. The next stop was the home of Ernest Hemingway. It was a beautiful home full of fun facts about the famed author, but it was crowded with tourists. This made the experience difficult to enjoy, and suddenly, the $18 entrance fee didn’t seem worth it. I looked for the exit and got out of there as fast as I could.

I started walking and ended up at a bar called Captain Tony’s Saloon. It was a dive bar with dollar bills and U.S. license plates affixed to the ceiling. I didn’t care enough to ask why. I sat down at the bar and noticed writings everywhere, including on the beer mugs, saying “Home of the Original Sloppy Joe.” This was the bar where the sloppy Joe was invented! This is one of my favorite meals, and I had no idea it originated in Key West. Unfortunately, this bar wasn’t selling Sloppy Joes at that moment, but the bar next door was.

I finished the beer I ordered, and power walked to a bar called Sloppy Joe’s Bar. This bar was much larger, had more sunlight, and a live band performing 80s and 90s rock hits. It was so packed that there was barely room to walk. I was thankful to find one open seat at the bar. The time had come to eat a Sloppy Joe, and it did not disappoint. The flavor, bread, and meat were all perfect. It was like Jesus himself walked on the Atlantic Ocean and became a cook at this bar.

Once my stomach was full, I used my time to plan the rest of my journey. The fiasco with my car drained my funds considerably, so I decided that I would end my road trip soon. I’d visit a couple more states and then head home to regroup, replenish my money, and head back on the road again. My next major stop was New Orleans, Louisiana, but there were stops I wanted to make on the way. The plan was to leave Key West now, stop in Kississimee briefly to see a friend, and stay overnight in Pensacola before continuing to NOLA. This entire plan would be altered unexpectedly in a matter of minutes.

As I started driving north out of Key West, my Tinder app pings, “You’ve Got a Match!”. I completely forgot that I downloaded the app. It’s a tool I used while traveling to help me to meet new people. I pulled over to check and see who I matched with. It was a slim, attractive Chinese woman named Hannah. She sent me a message almost immediately asking to meet up. My first thoughts were, “Is this a trap?” “Am I being catfished?”. I quickly found a lunch spot for us to meet at. Then I made a U-turn while yelling out “YOLO!”. It took me longer than expected to get to the restaurant because of parking issues, so I was a few minutes late. When I arrived, I spotted an Asian woman in a straw hat and blue sundress. I hesitantly approached her, “Hannah?” to which she responded with a straight face, “No.” I started walking away, thinking she was serious. Annoyed, she says, “Yes, I’m Hannah! You’re late.”. From that point, I knew this was going to be an interesting date. We spent the rest of the day together, eating at different spots, bar hopping, and talking about life. She was in Key West on vacation for the weekend but lived in Washington, DC. The best way to describe her personality is cold and super sarcastic. I don’t think I saw her smile the entire time.

It was getting late, so Hannah invited me to come hang out at her hotel. We drank wine while sitting in her hot tub. Without a thought, I got closer to her and kissed her on the lips. Her face lit up as she looked at me with a huge smile, something I didn’t think she was capable of. We spent the rest of the night into the morning, talking, cuddling, binge-watching Family Guy, and other fun activities. The hotel was serving a delicious continental breakfast, so we partook in that before she walked me to my car. We hugged, and I thanked her for a wonderful time. It was time to head north.

Kissimmee, FL

My plan was now altered as a result of my staying in Key West a day longer than expected. The new plan was to stop in Kissimmee briefly to get food with my friend Anthony, then drive straight to New Orleans. It’s a 14-hour drive from Key West to New Orleans, but I was growing concerned about money and didn’t want to book another hotel on the way. I had not seen Anthony in over a decade, so it was a chance to see an old friend and take a break from my long drive. We ate at a place called Sloppy Taco Palace. He invited two ladies he knew to join us, and the four of us laughed and ate delicious Mexican food. I told Anthony about my crazy plan to drive to Louisiana. He responded, “F*ck that. You’re staying with me.” Who am I to turn down a free place to stay for the night? We went back to his place, sipped on whiskey, and reminisced about the fun we had in our 20s.

The following morning, I headed towards Louisiana, but I had one more stop in Florida. I wanted to see the Graffiti Bridge in Pensacola. The name is self-explanatory. As a lover of graffiti art, it was a must-see, and it was on the way, so why not? It’s an old railroad overpass full of color and self-expression. I sat under the bridge for about an hour, examining the art and thinking about my time in Florida. I had a good time, but I was glad to be leaving The Sunshine State.

New Orleans, LA

A day before driving to New Orleans, I informed my friend Tom, who lived there, that I was coming. He offered me a place to stay, which I gladly accepted. It would only be a three-day stay. Tom was a high school educator and incredibly intelligent. He’s the type of person you could have deep conversations with about politics, anthropology, and aliens. He was moving out of Louisiana in a few days, so I spent much of my time either working or helping him pack boxes. I’d already been to this city before, so there wasn’t much I hadn’t already seen.

Still, I decided to go on a walking tour of the French Quarter to learn more about the history of this city. This was an early afternoon in July in the South. By that statement alone, you have an idea of how hot it was. This was the kind of heat where one can see water vapors in the air. The streets and local businesses were mostly desolate, aside from construction workers. I was too distracted by sweat soaking through my undershirt to focus on what the tour guide was saying. The more we walked, the more I longed for it to end. As I stood in the Louisiana heat feeling sorry for myself, an older black couple on the same tour struck up a conversation with me. They were David and Trina(I don’t remember her actual name) from Atlanta, Georgia. They were kind, full of wisdom, and easy to talk to. They inquired about why I was in Louisiana, to which I informed them about my mental health journey. They don’t know it, but meeting them made my day. It gave me an outlet to talk about my mom and how much she meant to me.

The following day was spent hanging out with Tom. Our first stop was Fat Tuesday. He pulled over and waited for me to order a drink. I returned to the car, sipping on a massive frozen cocktail. It was so sweet and delicious that I kept getting brain freeze from sipping it too fast.

Our next stop was Felipe’s Mexican Taqueria. When we arrived, I got out of the car and instantly felt like I was teetering on a seesaw. I knew my drink had alcohol in it, but I greatly underestimated how much. I was drunk and happy and smiling at random people. We walked inside the restaurant to a long line. To me, a long line at a restaurant is an indication of quality food, so I was both excited and anxious. To my surprise, the line moved so quickly that I didn’t have time to figure out what I wanted to order before getting to the front. The cashier was super friendly and patient with me while I figured it out. This was the theme of every interaction I had with a Louisiana resident. They are effortlessly hospitable people. I decided to get a shrimp burrito as Tom found a spot for us to sit. As we ate, I couldn’t thank him enough for introducing my taste buds to this wonderful flavor.

After lunch, we headed to Cafe Du Monde to get beignets. Beignets are deep-fried pastries covered in powdered sugar. They are worth the purchase but can get messy no matter how carefully they are eaten. We ate them as we walked through City Park. I wiped white powder off of my clothes as I admired moss hanging from the oak trees in the park. We were both tired after a long day, so we headed back home to relax.

Later that night, I headed to the French Quarter and walked around aimlessly. The streets were filled with drunk people, bright lights, and loud music from all directions. I bar-hopped, stopping at several blues bars with live music. I was getting hungry, so I stopped at Le Bayou Restaurant for a meal. I don’t remember the dish I ate, but it was delicious, French-influenced food. After eating, I continued walking, admiring the buildings and cobblestone streets. My time in New Orleans was coming to an end, so I was taking it all in one last time.

The next morning, I thanked Tom for his hospitality, hopped in my car, and headed west. My destination was Houston, TX, but I stopped briefly at Gator Chateau since it was on the way. I learned a lot about alligators and even got to hold one.

Houston, TX

Houston would only be an overnight stop, but it was impactful nonetheless. My cousin Shaun lives there, so that’s who I crashed with. This was three cities in a row where I received free accommodation, and I couldn’t be more grateful. Texas was unbearably hot. It felt like that level of Super Mario Brothers on Nintendo where the sun is trying to kill you.

Despite the heat, I spent much of the day outside. I was frustrated because my available funds were uncomfortably low, so I couldn’t enjoy the food scene like I wanted to. Instead, I found free things to do. The first place I visited was the Houston Graffiti Building. As I pulled into the parking lot, a homeless man approached my car and told me that he was hungry. I told him to get in, and I drove to a nearby Subway. On the way, he was telling me how rough it has been for him over the years but that God has been taking care of him. At that moment, I realized how foolish it was for me to be upset that I couldn’t enjoy fancy meals when this guy didn’t have a home and was overjoyed to get a Subway sandwich. He couldn’t stop thanking me for his meal.

We said our goodbyes, and I headed back to the Graffiti Building. As I walked around, I was surrounded by beautiful artwork and murals of local hip-hop artists like Paul Wall and Bun B. I was blown away by the remarkable talent but physically drained from the sweltering heat.

It was time to find a setting with less direct sunlight. I drove to Eleanor Tinsley Park and found a shaded area with a clear view of the Houston skyline. There were no people around, so the quietness gave ample time for self-reflection. As I gazed upon this beautiful city, I wondered what it was like living in this Texas metropolis. As I continued staring into the distance, my phone started buzzing. It was my friend Kizzy asking me to meet her for lunch. She’s a good friend from my time living in Denver who now resides in Houston. It was almost a decade since we last saw each other in person.

An hour later, I arrived at the meet-up spot, Lotus Seafood. We enjoyed good food and talked for hours. It felt like old times. We left the restaurant and sat in my car, talking for a few more hours. We talked about our grief, healing, trauma, faith, and ways to navigate all of it in our short time on this planet. It was insightful and comforting to have a conversation with someone who knows exactly what I’m feeling but is further along on the journey than I am. I was supposed to leave for Austin, TX, hours ago to make it to my friend Larissa’s birthday dinner, but I quickly lost track of time. I felt bad about it, but I have no regrets because I needed this conversation. I don’t remember how the conversation ended, but I reflected on it as I continued my journey west for three more hours.

Austin, TX

Austin, TX, was the last official stop on my trip. I arrived at the same time as Larissa, who I was staying with during my time there. She’s a good friend from Chicago that I stayed connected with after her move to Austin. This was my third time there, so there wasn’t much I hadn’t seen already. We spent most of our time together eating at food trucks and overpriced hipster restaurants. Austin has incredible Mexican food, but outside of that, the food scene was frustrating for me. The same foods I could get on any corner in NYC for $2-$5 they were selling there for $20-$30. White people lined up in huge numbers, thinking it was something revolutionary. That’s the most annoying part about Austin, but it's a city full of beautiful hiking trails and friendly people.

San Antonio

While in Austin, my friend Yolanda texted me that she was visiting San Antonio with her family and that I should join her. Yolanda and I have been friends through Twitter since 2016 but have only met in person twice. She lives closer to the Mexican border, so given that she was now only an hour's drive away, this provided a rare opportunity to see each other again. I immediately connected with her and her brothers. We spent the day walking the San Antonio River Walk, eating food and drinking alcohol. One spot in particular that stood out was Dick’s Last Resort. It’s a restaurant where the waiters are rude to you on purpose. It was a unique, fun, and hilarious experience. I even got a handmade hat designed by our waitress that I wore the entire day.  I sobered up and drove back to Austin after an eventful day.

Philadelphia, PA

Larissa was having a tough time and asked if she could join me on my drive back home. It was unexpected, but I accepted. A few days later, the time had finally come. I was going back home. We made several stops on the way to make the long journey back to Philadelphia more bearable. This included an overnight stop in Knoxville, TN, to rest, Little Rock, AR, for beer and the best soul food of my life, and West Virginia for scenic hikes through Powell Mountain and Blackwater Falls State Park.  The long journey was finally over. We were finally in Philadelphia. Larissa stayed for a week before taking a flight back home. After she left, I went back to my Lyft and Uber hustle.

The plan was to work and save up money for the next couple of months before heading back on the road again. This time, I was headed to the west coast.

This plan would come to an abrupt end. A couple of weeks into working, I decided to accept a Lyft LUX ride from a woman named Carmen. The ride was in an incredibly busy area near Lincoln Financial Field, where an Eagles vs.Vikings football game she attended had just let out. It’s an area I almost always avoided but, for some reason, decided not to this time. Getting to her location was difficult because of road closures and heavy game traffic. But we spent an hour on the phone trying to navigate the best spot to meet.

We finally found each other, and she, her best friend Patience, and her son quickly filed into my car. Patience was drunk and had a strong West African accent. She immediately started asking me questions about my life, like my name, where I was from, and my relationship status. Suddenly, she says, “My sister here is single.” Carmen mumbles, “Oh my God,” obviously embarrassed by her friend’s antics. I started laughing at her audacious nature, thinking, “These drunk women are a trip.” It was a long ride to the suburbs, and Patience spent the entire time telling me how awesome her friend was. Towards the end of the ride, she tells me what an amazing cook Carmen is. I jokingly said, “You should have led with that!” and Carmen said to me from the backseat, "Don't encourage her." We arrived at the dropoff point, and Patience snatched Carmen’s iPhone and handed it to me, demanding that I put my number in it, took mine, added Carmen's number to it, and said, "Call my friend and ask her out." I saved the number on my phone.

A few days go by, and I contemplate if I should even contact this woman. I was content being single and only wanted to travel. I decided to give it a chance and wanted to call her, but I had dental work done that week, which made talking difficult. I texted instead, rambling about the pain in my mouth. For some reason, she thought I was hilarious. After texting back and forth, I asked her out on a date. When I arrived to pick her up, she had a bright smile to match her bright yellow dress, and I thought she was really beautiful. Although I was nervous, I decided to play a game with her. Each time she reached for the door handle, I started to slowly pull off. It was a fun game, and she thought it was funny. When I finally stopped, I got out and opened the door for her, and we were on our way.

She talked a lot the entire ride, but I enjoyed every minute of it. She had the most interesting ramblings I had ever heard. I took her to a spot with hundreds of board games and drinks. We played Scrabble, Connect Four, and other games. She didn’t win once, and I made it a priority to let her know how much she sucked at every game. She laughed so hard as I relentlessly made fun of her, and I was hooked. The first date went well, and before it was over, I was falling for this random woman, who I was "forced" to ask out. In my mind, I knew that she was the one, but I was cautiously optimistic.

A few days later, we had plans to go for ice cream. I was heading back on the road the next day, so I didn’t know when I’d see her again, and I really wanted to. It was the second date, but there was a torrential downpour. So, she invited me to come over to her place instead, and she would order seafood. After dinner, we sat on the floor in front of her couch, eating ice cream and watching football. She was rambling again, and I quickly shut her up by softly kissing her lips. The euphoria that hit me at that moment was difficult to articulate. She smiled at me and started kissing me more passionately. We then stayed up from night until the sun came up, talking and laughing on her balcony. It was almost 7 am, and she had to take her son to school, so I said I would wait at her place until she came back.

A few minutes after she left, I got a call from her, “Come outside. I just hit your car.” I run downstairs to see a deep scratch on the bumper of my Tesla. She was crying and apologizing profusely. I held her close and said, “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Would you be my girlfriend?” She said yes, and in that moment, I felt like everything would eventually be alright.

I got an estimate for the damage, which was about $4,000. I decided I couldn't continue my road trip at that moment. I was sad about it, but I was also excited to see where things were going with Carmen and me. Three months later, I took her to a cottage in the mountains and asked her to marry me, and she said YES! Six months after that, we got married on the rooftop of The Constitution Center overlooking the Philadelphia skyline, surrounded by our family and friends and our LOVE.

So, in the end, I went on a road trip to heal from the loss of my mother, not knowing that I would meet my wife a year later. I won’t pretend to understand this confluence of joy and pain or why one had to be a catalyst for the other. All I can tell you is that God has provided comfort through my pain, not only through the arrival of my wife but the numerous people I encountered on every part of my journey driving through the United States of America. Many of them are unaware of how they have helped me, even the SC man who backed into my car.

Everything that has happened, including misfortune, has either taught me something new or brought me closer to my destiny. I'm looking forward to this next chapter of my life.