Member-only story
Trashley: Part Seventeen
Big Sur, Little Lies
Upon returning from the Canary Islands, I discovered that Ashley was on Bumble, on drugs, and on bad terms with some of my neighbors. I suspected Ashley was lying about other things, like being a professor, but I didn’t have solid proof yet. If only the Universe would send me a message. We’d planned a camping trip for my birthday, which was coming up on Labor Day weekend. Ashley was taking me to my favorite place on Earth: Big Sur. A place so enchanting it almost makes me believe in God. I couldn’t wait to soak up the trees, the coastline, and the autumn vibes, and I wasn’t going to let a couple of major lies spoil our trip.
My birthday is special since it’s a Federal holiday, the day Beyonce was born. Having the same birthday as Beyonce is a huge responsibility. People expect more from us. When Ashley and I started dating I thought she was my Jay-Z, but lately she’d felt more like my Becky with the good hair.
Ashley and I packed the Tesla with our camping gear and drove to Bakersfield. The dead dog was still rotting on the side of the highway at the exit to her parents’ house. He reminded me of climbers who’d died on Mount Everest, because nobody was coming to pick him up. His corpse would spend eternity on the side of I-5.
