Gassing The Car

The drive back to San Diego was much faster than our trip to Ensenada, and it was much more pleasant. As evening approached Q rolled up the windows in the car because all of us were getting cold. That's when my enchilada lunch decided to wreck havoc with my guts. Perfect timing, unfortunately. The enchiladas were ripping me up. I tried to be as stealthy as possible while practically crapping my pants. Q noticed one of us was polluting the air inside the car almost instantly after each silent gas cloud emerged. Guess his sense of smell is pretty good, his nose must work better than the rest of his faculties.

He didn't say anything at first. He rolled his window down just about an inch or so to clear out his airspace. Like clockwork as soon as he rolled his driver's side window back up again, I'd rip another silent stinker. Then back down his window went. It was like a little game between the two of us. This cycle repeated itself a half dozen times without anyone saying a word. Q eventually reached a breaking point with my stench and he yelled out in a rage, "WHO SHIT IN MY CAR!" Both Autumn and her stepmother were in shock that Q had asked such a thing, partially because they thought it was crude of him and partially because it startled all of us. I kinda jumped in my seat he was so loud. Meekly, I rasied my hand and said, "I, uh. I did, sir." Really I didn't care about gassing out Q and the rest of the vehicle's occupants. I couldn't help it. He kept complaining about it though and eventually Autumn and Annoying Stepmother snapped at him to shut up about it already.

At the California border with Mexico we got snagged in bumper to bumper traffic. Q had been expecting it. He said weekends are always a mess trying to get back across to San Diego. I got slightly twitchy about the contraband we were bringing back with us. Namely the switchblade and three sets of brass knuckles Autumn and I bought. Q was cool about it though. He had no problem with us becoming small-time smugglers of what he considered to be stupid shit. When it was our turn with the US border guards Q told them we bought a watch and one leather handbag, or something like that. We were waived through the border and back on the highway for the hotel and a good night's sleep.