Ten Hours to Las Vegas

“Blink 182 or Eminem?”

“How about Pearl Jam?”

Pearl Jam sucks, will you listen to Pink?”

“Eminem it is.” I gripped the steering wheel hard.

This conversation, or a variation of it, had been going on for several hours. I thought it would be fun to carpool with Ken. We both went to UNLV and driving from Sacramento to Las Vegas in August is no fun alone.

Turns out, it was no fun with Ken either.

The ride started out fine. We chatted and listened to local morning radio until we got to the California/Nevada border. I was driving so Ken was in charge of the radio. He pulled out his CD case and thumbed through the selections.

“What do you want to listen to: Destiny’s Child, ‘N Sync?

“You have the CD collection of a thirteen year old.”
“Fine, you pick something.”

After bickering for awhile, we came to the realization that the only CD’s we agreed on were Eminem and Blink 182.

That was ten years ago. I’ve since lost track of Ken but I still remember all the words to The Real Slim Shady.

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