Wheely Cwazy

With your big fat wheels. That is what he said to me that night. And I was thinking…well if I was even thinking through that haze that I call sleep-ee-ness. Anyway, I was wondering if he was calling me fat, or if he was singing a song. I didn’t know. It kinda sounded like a line from a new song on the radio. It is by Nappy Roots, and is called Country Boyz. But he wasn’t singing, he was just saying it. I was confused. I was trying to see if he was bobbing his head as to get a feel for his intentions of the aforementioned statement. Then I began to rationalize. I am not really that fat. And nor do I have wheels. Big fat wheels, at that.
I looked at him one more time and asked him a simple question, what. He then laughed and threw up his hands in a gesture somewhat like a referee for a football game, or maybe even one of those guys wearing the earmuffs at the airport directing planes. He repeated once again, with your big fat wheels. I now was not only confused but also thoroughly annoyed.
We were in the car driving to who knows where, so I couldn’t exactly strangle him there. I had to keep my hands on the wheel, 10 and 2. Isn’t that what they say? Well anyway, I had to really try not to scream and act like a fool. I didn’t want him to think I was crazy. I had the responsibility of a large metal, potentially deadly, machine in my hands. I also had the even more scary responsibility of this guy sitting in the passenger’s seat calling my wheels fat.
My passenger confused me a little because, although I knew him, I felt as if I didn’t recognize him. I don’t know how to explain it. But it was as if I knew him because he was in my car, not because we had formerly met. He looked a little like Malik from the Real World, but he wasn’t. He apparently was my friend or else he wouldn’t be in my car calling me fat and then gesturing weirdly when I questioned him on it. And I don’t remember making friends with any Real World cast members.
My Real World passenger said, this time with his head tilted up a little and with a wider mouth, with your big fat wheels. After he finished he kept his head tilted. I just stared at my non-reciprocating passenger. I was really trying to understand what he was trying to communicate to me. If he were singing a song he would be using more words and using them in some sort of melody. I really was perplexed as we zoomed down the anonymous road.
Then, it dawned on me. He was not calling me fat, but dubbing my wheels fat. And, as far as I could tell, I did not have any wheels; but my car did. My trusty car had wheels, but did it have fat wheels? Over the past 2 years that I have had my car I had never thought about the wheels, and never had I thought about them being big and fat. So all I had to do to solve this tense mystery was to simply look at my wheels.
I realized that I had to do this in a manner that was not too suspicious. I did not want my passenger to know that I was lost in the conversation. If you could even call it that. I looked over at my passenger. He was smiling like an idiot looking straight ahead at the road. If I rolled my window down, he would see me, he would notice for sure. I had to get a look. I thought of a brilliant plan. I would distract him momentarily while looking out the window at my supposed big fat wheels.
My passenger I knew to be a huge fan of Mother’s Cookies. So what better way to distract him than a delicious sighting of a scrumptious home baked good? I screamed with delight towards my passenger’s window, look, look, I see a big bag of Mother’s Cookies, UNATTENDED! He immediately zipped his head around and looked out his window asking where as he turned. I said, there, as I pushed the smooth button that directed my window to slide down quietly. He was saying, where, where? I then poked my head out of my window, the warm but intense breeze making it hard for me to breathe normally. I wrenched my head all of the way out so I could get ready to look down without crashing into oncoming traffic or perhaps an old oak tree with many knots. It was hard to keep my hands on 10 and 2 while committing this act of pseudo-acrobatics, but I managed.
There we were driving on some old highway in the middle of somewhere, a warm breeze was present but I don’t remember if it was summer or spring or maybe just a warm winter night. I heard Hawaii is warm in the winter. Anyway, there I was driving my car with my head sticking way out of the window ready to get a glance at my wheels, while my passenger was frantically looking out of his window for that lonely box of Mother’s yummy Cookies. I had to look. It was now or never.
Against the wind, I turned my head out towards the open road. I caught sight of a car coming my way on the opposite side. It was far away so all I could tell was that the car coming was a white-ish Jeep thing. I could see the driver swaying back and forth in a jerky fashion as if she was trying to dance to some hip-hop song. I seemed to be so much higher than the Jeep, which was weird, because all I was driving was a small Honda Accord.
As the Jeep drew closer the driver started to look scared and started waving. I didn’t want to seem impolite so I waved back. Then I remembered the task at hand: looking at my wheels. I glanced one last time at the Jeep approaching, only this time the driver was honking insanely at me. How rude! I looked at my passenger and he now had his window down and was craning his neck around to get a look at the long lost Cookies he so craved. I thought that I had better hurry and look or else he will know that I am just distracting him.
I looked. With the Jeep’s horn sounding away I saw my wheels. My friggin BIG FAT WHEELS. They were huge. They were like those wheels you see on those monster trucks. How could I have not noticed them before now? There they were huge and fat, just rolling down the highway without a care in the world. My passenger tugged on my shoulder and yelled, with your big fat wheels. He smiled like an idiot, that Malik look alike. I turned back out towards the road; the Jeep’s driver honking her horn like a madman. Then the Jeep was there, and I mean there. WHAM! My face met with the rack of the Jeep. My head smashed back as the car lurched forward.
I flew forward and was entangled in a blanket wet with my own sweat. I was confused, and I touched my face. It was covered in bandages. There was music blaring. I shook my head and realized I was in a very white room and on a bed. I rubbed my eyes and wanted to see where all the music was coming from. I looked up and saw a TV playing a music video. It was one of those TV’s that are mounted way up on the wall so the picture looks way too small. It was playing that new Nappy Roots video. With your big fat wheels was resounding in my head. I remembered that I could turn the sound off with a remote. I searched for it, and found it under my left elbow, all the buttons being depressed. I turned the sound down; it had been all the way up.
A man in a white coat with a friendly face came in through the door across the white room. He came and fiddled with stuff next to my bed and wrote things down on a clipboard. I couldn’t remember what I was doing here. I wondered where my Malik passenger went. I wondered where my big fat wheels went. I wondered why this man in a white coat wasn’t talking to me. I tried to talk but it made my face hurt even to begin to talk. I wanted to know what happened to me and how I got here. I wanted to know what here was.
I untied myself from my blanket and looked around the room. White. Clean. Like a hospital maybe. I didn’t know. There was nothing personal to me. The stand to the right of me had a glass of water and a to my surprise, a purple lei. I didn’t know if it was mine or not. The man in the white coat left without saying anything to me, leaving a slight odor of coffee and disinfectant in the air.
I attempted to sit up. I could. I then brought my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Aside from my aching face, the rest of my body seemed to respond. I walked to the one window on the far right wall. I was humming that song.
Outside the window I couldn’t recognize. The scenery wasn’t familiar. Just a small parking lot. Then I spotted something very familiar, my car. I wondered if I drove myself here. Why was my car here? Was I crazy or hurt? I was confused. Even though I didn’t know anything I still smiled like an idiot through the tight bandages. There was my car parked right out side, with its small black wheels.