days 7-8—stuck in paradise

We found ourselves in Paradise Grove, a classic suburbia. If there was a chain restaurant you had been eagerly anticipating trying, chances were this place had it.

Our saving grace, Alex the mechanic, was scheduled to visit the hotel around 2:00 PM to diagnose the battery issue. With hours to spare, we turned to practical matters. Trent, in particular, needed a haircut and had been eyeing a new gaming laptop.

We headed to the heart of suburban life, the mega shopping center, which boasted an extensive array of stores, including Walmart, Target, Home Depot, Best Buy, TJMaxx, Sierra, and many more.

Trent discovered the ideal lightweight laptop at Best Buy. Amazingly, he also noticed a barber close by. Ah, the American experience.

“I’ll check out some shops while you get your haircut,” I said, eyeing Sierra and Ulta. I had no business shopping, but who knew? Maybe something would be worth the sacrifice.

I strolled through the aisles, but nothing caught my attention. After a while, I decided to check on Trent. His barber’s shop was just a 15-minute walk across the parking lot.

As I strolled through the lot, an unexpected wave of self-awareness washed over me. I glanced down at my sweatpants and UGG slippers. They were casual enough for an “errands chic” style, but perhaps too relaxed. I couldn’t help but wonder, to an onlooker, how did I appear? Did I seem purposeful or did I look like someone lost in thought?

The thought snowballed in my mind. What if they thought I was waiting to ask for spare change? What if I appeared aimless? An otherwise routine walk now felt heavy with the imagined scrutiny of others.

Is this the experience of being homeless? I pondered. Both unseen and intensely scrutinized, as if examined closely. This understanding made my breathing and pace slow down.

No one’s noticing you, I reminded myself. They’re just living their lives.

When I got to Trent's location, I encountered a dilemma: which barber should I choose? To my left was Great Clips, and to my right was a vape lounge with a handwritten sign offering haircuts.

I took a chance on Great Clips, but it was empty. So, I tried the vape lounge. Sure enough, there he was, getting his beard trimmed beside a bar and a couple of pool tables. When the hairdresser turned around and noticed me, I grabbed a seat across from him.

"Ah, so you're the one he's been talking about," she teased with a playful smile. "Sounds like you two are in the middle of quite the adventure."

I felt my cheeks getting hot, probably turning red. "Yeah, we're excited. A few bumps along the way, sure, but nothing we can't handle."

Soon enough, he emerged, looking refreshed and undeniably more polished—far from the disheveled van-dwelling figure he had been this morning.

By then, it was almost lunchtime, although we had skipped breakfast. We stumbled upon a charming retro diner just a few minutes away—One Man Band.

As you step inside, you’re greeted by a sign that explains their delightfully quirky ordering system. Instead of waiting for a server, you use a phone at your table to place your order directly with the kitchen.

After eating our fill, we returned to the hotel to use the gym. Shortly after, Alex showed up to inspect the van again.

After spending a few hours troubleshooting, he identified the problem. However, he couldn't fix it immediately and would have to come back the next day.

We were a little disheartened, but we understood. These things take time.

So, we made the logical decision: we went for a night swim, ordered Chipotle, and binge-watched Cops. The van was supposed to be fixed tomorrow, and we would be back on the road soon.

However, the reader’s van was not fixed the next day. Alex had dedicated the entire day to fixing it, only to find out around 6:00 PM that he hadn’t made any progress and would have to return on Monday.

It wasn’t the news we had hoped for, but what could we do?