The Great Wander of 2026
Does this technically count as a hike?
Probably not.
Am I going to make up for the Pennsylvania count on the way back through, since I grew up there and know the spots?
Most likely.
Is anyone but my own dumb head holding me to this arbitrary standard I made up for no other reason than setting ridiculous goals akin to “do the Minnesota Hiking Club in one winter?”
Definitely not.
But hey, when you're already heading to the east coast, Pennsylvania besties call up and say they have tickets to AEW Dynamite, and your schedule is flexible since the whole point of a wander is having very few actual plans, well… shit got bumped back a few weeks.
Four years of commuting to Philly for uni must've been a big factor in not having returned there but once in the nine years since I accorded my graduation in case 45 showed up again like the previous year.
Oh, the sentences one gets to say as a token poor kid at a rich school…
Speaking of Shit Privileged White Kids From Prep Academies Say, a game more popularly known as Rory Gilmore in seasons 1-3, the show was at Temple, and the way those kids reacted when I drove Uber there…
“You went to Temple? It's so dangerous there!”
“I know, I got murdered three times on the way home.”
Five of us packed in for the ride, and what a nostalgia trip it was, only this time I wasn't driving on the roads designed for particularly stately horse carriages and Ben Ftanklin’s ere days of the party bus prototypes. Essentially cuddling with my new friend as three of us sat in the backseat, the conversations and whimsy was in full effect.
The “hike” was walking from the parking garage to the venue and back, but when one is dressed like chick Darby Allin in vinyl shorts, fishnet, and the quality makeup of a professional dominatrix goth who also officiates weddings as Crow-era Sting, the standards of difficulty are alerted appropriately.
The show itself was tremendous, but more fun was watching my four carpool cuddle buddies experience their first live wrestling show, unlike this moderately jaded fuck who told stories about the show in Philly 20 years ago where I slept on a marble dorm room floor (oh to be young again), melted in the sun while hoping that LiveJournal friend (Google it, kids) showed up with the tickets he promised, and actively enjoyed the Philly crowd special called “We Don't Care Who Wins As Long As John Cena Loses.”
The true wander was about to begin, but calling an audible to keep a five-year-old promise to go to their first show with my favorite people beats upholding the roles I made up myself every time. I was going to get plenty of hiking in. This was an opportunity that only happens once, and I'll pay my own late fees by doing a difficult Pennsylvania hike on the way back.
No comments:
Post a Comment