Let me start off this post by asking a question, how far will thirty dollars take you? It could get you a pizza and drinks, maybe a new outfit, but what if that’s all you had? I’m gonna back this up a little bit.
Wednesday in Washington D.C, was bright, it was hot, and it was humid. My hair clung to the back of my dress that stuck to my back. I vacillated between feeling like I was in a sauna and being plunged into the freezing depths of the air-conditioned museums.
What does this have to do with the Monkey House in Vermont? I’m getting there, I promise. After a fun filled tour of the museums, Zack and I made plans to grab a cold drink, wait out rush hour and drive back. We started to walk towards a small market when I heard the words one never wants to hear in a major city. “Have you seen my debit card?”
We backtracked, we searched, nothing. Zack cancelled his card and then we sat; and we sat some more. I was kinda stumped; what happens now? I had to be in Portland, Zack had to be in Vermont.
This wasn’t good, I checked my balance, thirty dollars. I had frolicked a little too hard on this trip, I had thirty dollars. Oof. Okay, we can transfer funds, that’s no big deal, how long does that take? Oh, just 24hrs or so, give or take. We had camping equipment, and we had food in the trunk, so that’s okay. It’s just a matter of exactly how far thirty dollars will take a pair of untalented buskers?
So how far? Just a little bit outside of Gettysburg. We made it to Pennsylvania and camped in a forest. I was sick, and feeling pretty deflated, defeated, and maybe it was the effect of having a war memorial so close, but I couldn’t stop thinking “Will I ever see home?”
Bright daylight greeted us in the morning and we started driving once the funds became available. We weren’t going to make it to Maine in time, so we made a stop at the Monkey House.
Vermont is close to Maine, it feels like Maine, add in Lake Champlain and it feels like home. The Monkey House immediately felt like home. I entered the venue feeling like Odysseus returning to Ithaca, minus killing all the suitors trying to marry my wife, so maybe that’s a poor example.
I was greeted by a horde of familiar faces; DJ Myth, Ben Shorr, Taylor the infamous Linck, Jarv, Eyenine, Hate Ph34r, and honestly, the list goes on. Everybody was happy and it felt like the previous day had been a dream. Maybe I felt a little more like Dorothy, than Odysseus?
We wrapped up the trip by having an enjoyable night, beer was cheap and friends were on fire (lit?). The lighting was great, and I really hope I get invited down again. I am honestly so happy to finally share all this with you guys out there!