The Trip to Chicago for the Fornication Party

 On the Road to Chicago—August, 2026

 

It was the day of the Fornication Party in Chicago.  I was stoked.  I was looking forward to seeing Keshawn.  I had also been in touch with the hot-assed man who had purchased my well used jock.  Hell, I wanted to be in a room of gay men who were there to fuck—and not to scroll through their phones!

I couldn’t settle all morning.  I knew that it was a three-hour (sometimes three and a half hour) drive.  Plus, I wanted to get there in time to eat my packed supper and take a little catnap.  The days of driving a long distance and playing hard for three hours, without that little rest and re-fueling, are past.

At noon, I got in the car.  It was still very early to hit the road but I couldn’t wait.  I had packed lunch and dinner.  To use up some of the extra time, I decided to stay off the expressway.  There is a scenic state highway that goes at a south-westernly diagonal from my town to the top of western Indiana.    A lot of farm country and small towns.  It’s not fast—but it would get me to where I could join the expressway to get me into town.

I was happy to be moving.  And it was great to not be on I-94, with all the angry drivers who didn’t like me actually doing the speed limit.  I was happy on my scenic two-lane road.

Fifty miles or so in, as I was coming around a curve, there was a dead raccoon in the middle of my lane.  I couldn’t swerve into the oncoming traffic.  I tried to swing right, but I was still on top of it.  There was a terrific clunk—but then all was fine for a minute before there was a loud thud.  I knew what it was—I had dealt with same thing years ago—the plastic, protective under carriage was loose.  I made it to the side of the road.  I looked under and it was folded back on itself.  I reversed and backed up a foot, straightening it out.  I thought I had wire in the trunk.  But did I have tools?

I went to look.

“Are you alright?”  It was a thirty-something young woman.  “I have a phone.”

“I have one, thank you.  I am just seeing if I can get this reattached.  If not, I will call AAA.”

“Okay, I was worried.”  She chatted a little more as I rummaged in the trunk before she asked once again before driving off. 

“Can I help?”  It was a man my age and build who I had seen pull into the drive of the sole house in this area.  He looked under the front of the car and said “You can fix this with some wire.  Ya got any?”

“Yes,” I said—as I’d just found it.  “But I’m not sure I have a cutter.”

“I do and I have better wire.  Be right back.” He walked rapidly across the street and was soon back with it.  Meanwhile, I had found the holes in the plastic—and the holes in the frame of the car where they needed to go.

As the older man returned, a third guy stopped.  He wondered if we needed a phone.  He stayed to chat with the older guy.  I thanked the older man and began to cut the wire.

A fourth car arrived, parking on the side of the road ahead of me.  A  rather hot young guy got out, saw the problem and said:  “I have zip-ties.  They will be so much easier.”

He came back with them and was on his back before I could say anything.  He rigged it up quickly and expertly.  The other two guys were as impressed as I was.  In moments, he had it safe secured back to the car frame.  “That should get you home,” he said.  “but you might not want to use the expressways, if you can help it.

I thanked him profusely and offered him cash.  He laughed, waved it away and drove off. 

“Take care going home,” said the man who’d gone off for wire.  I thanked him, too and made sure he took his wire cutters home.  The talker waved and got in his vehicle with a “Watch out for the coons…dead or alive.”

I got in my car.  I sat in the sunshine, a little stunned.  There really are good people, men and women that want to help—and this was a huge reminder for me.

I was also thankful that it had not happened on the expressway—it might have had a very different outcome.  I hated that I wasn’t going to get to play in Chicago—but I was still counting my other blessings.

I started the car, waited for traffic to clear and turned towards home…