Scrib howled with gut busting laughter before hanging up the phone and doubling over, clenching his fuzzy stomach. I worried his spleen would pop from over-exertion.
The night before, me and him had been fucking around on Facebook together. We'd been telling each of our contacts to SLAP THE HAM!!!, which had become quite the running joke with us (and was to become even more dangerous and hilarious in the future.) For anyone living under a rock, "slapping the ham" is a term for female masturbation.
We had, indeed, told all of our contacts to slap the ham. Including Scrib's ex-girlfriend's mom.
She'd promptly googled SLAP THE HAM and discovered what it meant. She'd presumably nearly fainted from offense before she vaulted towards the phone called the cops on Scrib for a number of reasons, including sexual assault. She'd then called Scrib's grandma, who'd waited until the next day to call Scrib and inform him about what a crazy bitch his ex's mom was.
We all had some hearty chuckles and enjoyed the brief uplifted atmosphere before the mood went stagnant. We reluctantly resumed our prior mindsets - irritation, anger, condescension. Lately, our buttons had been getting pushed uncontrollably. Simple sentences would set a spark of livid hatred that would twist itself into an idiotic accusation. We'd spent too much time together - we were now each firmly convinced that ourselves, as individuals, were the only ones able to form a rational view of how our group should behave. In short, we were getting sick of each other.
We came to talk as our relationships about husbands.
"Guys? Maybe it's time we spent some time apart. We know we love each other, but this is stupid."
This is a tricky thing to say to anyone - be it a partner, a best friend or a travel buddy. Considering we were most of these, the conversation was tricky. We'd been together for over 30 days without separation, and we were getting damn close to our destination on the east coast. How could we separate?
The conversation dwindled down as we analyzed our surroundings and we came to realize that we were getting antzy for another reason: we'd been stuck in the same place for too long. We'd been at Snooze's house for 4 days. When you're chock full of wanderlust, 4 days is a long time to stay in a city - let alone a single house. Vagrants don't get stuck in the same spot.
This gave us a perfect opportunity to separate. Scrib had decided to stay with Snooze for the duration of her house-sitting gig, spending some time around Guelph with her. Me and Fern could now make our own way back to Toronto. Elated from the prospect of our separations, the three husbands and Snooze embraced before me and Fernweh hit the road for an hour long walk back to the train station.
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