The DC Adventure

The Roadtrip to DC

On Saturday, my cousin and I took a roadtrip to Washington, DC, in my electric car that I bought on the internet. Thanks to Tesla’s free, high-speed superchargers, it takes about 4 hours and 45 minutes each way and costs me $0 for fuel, but the journey on Saturday took almost double the usual time due to a lack of discretion.

We left home with my battery pack charged to the max, which would usually take me to Maryland without a problem, but on Saturday I got a bit too eager. I drove at a prohibitively high speed (that will remain unmentioned), which drained the battery way faster than usual. After driving at this speed for an hour and 15 minutes, the cars various systems informed me that I should slow down to a more reasonable speed to ensure that I arrive at the first supercharging station, but I heeded to this advice a bit too late.

After taking a detour and attempting to charge my car at a Blink Network electric car charging station, their charger failed to work and left me stranded 10 miles away from the supercharging station with only 3 miles left on my battery. Bah humbug! So I went to a gas station and asked to borrow their power outlet to charge my car. The gas station owner said, “gas belong in car, not electric!” I said “this is a different kind of car.” He said “sure, use it” to prove to me that there was no way for a car to plug into the wall, but when he saw me unravel my extension cord, he quickly realized that electric does in fact “belong in car.” Unfortunately the tiny wall outlet charged my car at +4 miles per hour and it would have taken too long to get back on the road, so I called my insurance company and used the towing service that I’ve been paying for but have never used.

After juicing-up the car with more power, we continued our journey to Washington DC and had a splendid time, despite the polar arctic weather conditions. We traveled around the city via bicycle and explored the various landmarks and my car remained at the beautiful Washington, DC Tesla store to charge the car enough for us to make the return trip without incident.

The Roadtrip to DC

The Roadtrip to DC

The Roadtrip to DC

It was a wonderful adventure that was full of ups, downs, excitement, enlightenment and beautiful chaos! Now I can’t wait to take my car on a cross-country road trip to experience the same things all over again (minus the tow truck).

The Roadtrip to DC

The Roadtrip to DC

The Slow Crawl to Hemrittis

On Friday night, I was driving home when I pulled into a parking lot to get a bottle of water from my trunk. As I got out of the car, I heard a voice saying, “excuse me! I’m a new driver and I’m lost.”  When I looked up, I saw the face of an older lady sitting in a car and was visibly nervous.

I walked over to her car and said “where are you trying to go?”  She responded “hem-rittis.”  I asked “is that a city?”  She responded “hemrittis.”  I was confused, so I went to my car and googled “hemrittis.”  Thanks to Google’s ability to read minds, it said, “did you mean hepatitis?  hemroids?  emeritus?”  I followed the link to emeritus and it provided me an address for a senior citizens community a few miles away.  I explained the directions to her and she said “I’m scared to drive on the highway.”  I figured that her destination was only 15 minutes away, so I could have quickly guided her there before continuing home.  I told her “I’ll guide you there— just follow me,” and we set off to hem-rittis.

As soon as I pulled out of the parking lot, I realized that this wasn’t going to be the smooth journey that I envisioned.  I drove at a slower than normal speed on the highway—55 miles an hour— and she was zooming along at a whopping 12 miles an hour.  I’ll let that sink in for a second…. Geremy = 55 mph  her = 12 mph.  I slowed down to 2mph to allow her to catch up to me and then we both drove at a stead 20 mph pace down Route 80 on our way to hem-rittis.

About 45 minutes later, we arrived at Emeritus and I tried to ask her if this was the place that she was looking for.  She drove right past my without even looking at me.  I thought, “um, what just happened!?!?”  I got out of my car to run after her (she was driving around 5 mph so it wouldn’t have been tough), but then she suddenly stopped the car, walked towards me and gave me a huge hug.  She said “one day I hope to help you like how you helped me today!”  I wished her a pleasant goodnight and then I drove home feeling happy for two reasons:  1) I helped someone who was stranded in an unfamiliar place, and 2) I could finally drive at a normal speed again!

I drove home slightly faster than usually in order to compensate for my slow limp down the highway earlier.  While driving home and reflecting on the experience, I made a mental that I’ve got a friend at Emeritus…even though I don’t know her name, age, or any other information about her besides the fact that she pronounces Emeritus as hemrittis!  Hopefully that’s an adequate identifier for me to use when I visit her again to say hi a few months from now!


Diseased Oyster Nightmare

This is a photo of the man who bamboozled me. I went to a food festival and he was the only booth without any patrons, so I approached him and asked, “what are you selling?” He dryly responded, “oyster” without looking up from his phone. He didn’t say oysters— he said oyster, in the singular form, as if to say, “don’t even ASK for two oysters because you’re only getting ONE OYSTER!”

I said, “is it good?” Continuing to look down at his phone, he responded with a quick, “yip.” I wasn’t convinced by his monotonous tone, but I was interested in living life on the wild side, so I said, “ok, I’ll take one.” He let out an exasperated sigh and he opened his cooler to get my potentially diseased oyster that he probably caught from the radioactive Hudson River.

In my mind I thought that this oyster would taste like the delicious, spicy concoction that I tasted in Trinidad, but I was wrong…I was so so so so so wrong! SOOOO so wrong. So so soooooooo sooooooo wrong. As wrong as the time in the 90’s when my dad’s mom and my mom’s dad started dating and almost made my parents into step-siblings.

Diseased Oyster Nightmare

After he fetched an oyster shell from his cooler, he spent 2 seconds scraping something from it (presumably the tumor that grew on it while it marinated in the unfit-for-human-consumption water), and then he handed it to me. I said “what am I supposed to do with this?” He said “eat it.” I said, “aren’t you supposed to put it in a cup with some sort of sauce?” “Nope.” “You expect me to chew the shell?!” “No. Eat the stuff inside the shell quickly, otherwise it’ll burn.”

It’ll burn?!?

Diseased Oyster Nightmare

I should’ve thrown this sad-looking oyster directly in the trash and walked away, but I was too far into the experience to turn back now. I drank it like a seasoned oyster-drinking champ, and I waited for the taste to kick in before burning. It tasted like a death/train-smoke/ tile-grout/cigarette/fermented-egg/fish-tank-water/brussels-sprout/nail-polish/nickelodeon-slime soup. I made a bad decision.

Immediately after I ate it, my ankles started to sweat profusely and everything appeared blurry. It was disgusting. The taste was stuck in the back of my throat for 5 minutes and then it vanished and the world returned to normal. That’s when I realized that he said that he sold “oyster” because his filthy oysters were not fit for the human body to consume more than one.

Lesson learned: Do not consume diseased oysters from the lone oyster salesman.

The Hamsteriffic Gift

The Hamsterriffic Gift

Me: “That toy hamster looks so real!”
Them: “Geremy, it is real…and it’s yours! Surprise!!”

This is the conversation that took place on the Friday night when my kiddies surprised me with a pet hamster. I teach a group of wonderful teenagers every Friday night and sometimes they like to surprise me with gifts…like a real-life, four-legged, living-and-breathing, hyper hamster.

I was floored with their incredibly thoughtful gesture, and speechless at the same time that I was the new father of a hamster. But when I finally gathered the words to speak, I said the first thing that came to mind— “a hamster?? Thanks so much! I appreciate the gift, but I can’t take him home because the two guinea pigs would destroy him!” It’s true—those gpigs are ferocious…I raised them to be attack-pigs for protection.

Since the hamster couldn’t be returned to the pet store, he needed a new home. So we devised a two-pronged approach:

1. I’d call every available animal shelter and pet shop in the area to see if they’d accept a happy little hamster.
2. They’d post “free hamster with free delivery in 30 minutes” on all of their social networks. Then we’d sift through the list of willing candidates and deliver him to the first suitable owner.

After 45 minutes of monitoring all responses to the urgent request, we found a loving, willing family of four who took him and named him “Spike” because of his Spiky hair (a byproduct of him urinating all over himself). Then I reimbursed the kids the full cost of the hamster, plus $1 for their trouble.

This experience made me realize three things:

1. I should be ready for any kind of gift when it comes to my kiddies, including living, breathing things.
2. If someone is willing to give you a life, they really care!
3. Geremy + Hamster = No Bueno

The Indoor Skydiving Experience


A few months ago I went to Florida for a quick weekend getaway and while I was there, I had the opportunity to go indoor skydiving. It was a very odd experience for me, where I flew around aimlessly in an air chamber that was intended to simulate the skydiving experience. In the spirit of reflecting on my experiences in 2013, I’ve shared the footage and my internal monologue with you all in the video below.