Driving home

We’re heading back from the Bay area ..driving at white-knuckle speed over Highway One through Big Sur ..at midnight. We’re exhausted ..but we missed holiday traffic ..so I guess it was worth it. Besides, the moon on the water looks phosphorescent ..helps me see good enough to drive dangerously. Brian looks over at me and goes: “What d'ya mean the Motor Inn is no longer in business ..it’s an historic landmark for Chris’ sake ..man, I could sure go for an overnight pit stop.” I’m like “What about the Apple Farm in SLO (San Luis Obispo) ..” He says “Nah, that’s touristy fluff ..rancho-relaxo, I suppose you’ll be wantin’ a room by the water wheel too.” I say “Hey, they serve local wines on the house.” ..and he goes: “You mean like Boones farm apple wine ..?” and I say “No ..you’re thinking of Booney Doon winery ..and besides, this is Pinot Noir country.” “What about burgundy ..?” “Well, they got merlot ..same thing ..isn’t it ?” “Hey Compadre ..let’s just skip this shit and go to Jalama beach.” I say: “Sure, it’s kind of a crapshoot though, hard to say whether they’ll have any sites available.” He goes “Can’t we just pull over somewhere and sleep on the beach ..?” and I go “Suppose we could do that ..but if you want some amenities ..like warmth, I think our best bet is a flea bag in Morro Bay ..listen, lets do that and I’ll buy us calamari for lunch today.” “Deal ..!”