Plain and simple, Delaware sucks. I'd take Connecticut or New Jersey over it any day. Maybe I need to be convinced. Because I can't think of a single thing of worth that Delaware has other than tax free shopping, which in the Amazon.com age is pretty worthless. They have beaches that are supposed to have some charm. As you can see from the map below, I haven't been to much of Delaware. Maybe that's why it seems so weak.
Delaware's biggest city Wilmington is about 25 minutes from Philly. It's a bustling metropolis of 70,000 that is essentially just a large suburb. It has a sort of skyline and is definitely urban but they mainly only get Philly News.
I'm sure Wilmington has its own newspaper and probably some special edition of the Philly 11:00 news, but not much more. As you can see, I have very little to say about the Blue Hen State (yes, the Blue Hen State). So let me tell you a short story... Perhaps it at least partially explains why I have oh so much love for Delaware.Here we go... "The Night Alex Almost Lost His Car" ... eerie, right?
A few days before I left for my Freshman year of college, my friend Kehinde and I decided to smoke a few blunts and drive down to Baltimore. At the time, Kehinde lived pretty far South of Philadelphia, nearly at the PA/DE state line, so the drive to Baltimore wouldn't be more than an hour and some change, especially at 2AM. We hopped on I-95, cranked up the Company Flow and took off. It never really occurred to me at the time that Baltimore at 4AM might not be the world's safest place. But hey, you're only a kid once.
After about thirty minutes on the road, we stopped at a Burger King. Weed induced munchies never hit me the way they hit some people. I never fiended for food. But at the same time, I never turned down a meal either. And if the prospect of food hit my brain, the saliva glands began to roll. The thought of BK bacon on a microwaved patty got me running to the door, knocking over some weary travelers and grabbing blindly at the lunch-line style row of snacks. But no burger awaited me. It was 3AM, the time dinner gave way to breakfast. Plenty of sausages and croissants, but no burgers. Some people eat stray puppies when they're high but I'm a man of standards. If I want a burger, I'll have a burger or nothing.
I begged the guy behind the counter for a burger.
"I know you have them back there."
To which he offered the robot reply, "No burgers after 2:59AM."
This debacle left me bitter. I now had no intention of continuing on to Baltimore. I wanted to find an all night diner and call it quits. Kehinde got an egg sandwich of some sort, so he felt fine enough to continue, but since I had the car, I made the decisions. I don't think they'd suspended his license yet, but.. well maybe they had. He was always getting his license suspended for some shit.
I turned back home. After fifteen minutes we realized we had no blunts left. Most people can deal with this. But two weed fiends? If there's kush, it has to be smoked. We waited till we reached Wilmington and turned off the highway. We drove down an empty boulevard for an mile or so and then saw a gas station.
It took a second, but as I looked around, I had the hunch that we may've wandered into the ghettos of Wilmington. Not sure what tipped me off exactly. Maybe the locked 24 hour mini-mart. Or the twelve year old kid with his ten year old girlfriend sitting in the middle of the gas station like it was 4:00PM, not 4:00AM. Or maybe the empty 40 bottles and used condoms and emaciated cats. We didn't care. At least I didn't care. Kehinde may've been a little worried, hanging with a crazy white guy in a Lexus and all. He could always pretend he didn't know me I guess. That's what I would've done.
We walked to the mini-mart window. Although the store itself was closed, a man still sold gas, cigarettes, chips and the like out of the store window. Ahead of us, a fifty-something man ordered a pack of Newports. He only had a dollar though. I offered him another two dollars, but he seemed more interested in my Lincoln bill. Forget that the smokes only cost 3 bucks and some change. Now he wanted a soda too. I shrugged. Seemed reasonable enough. But the transaction didn't end there. The man stood there for another five minutes, not paying, not ordering anything else. Just standing. Meanwhile, the little twelve year old had disappeared. Next thing I know, I look up and three 18-20 year old men come out from under a dark bridge. They don't surround us exactly, but they surely set up in some strategic position.
My Spidey sense began to flicker. Not enough to start my feet, but enough for me at least to recognize the situation. Kehinde tugged my arm. I got the hint. We jogged right back to the car, locked the doors and drove off.
On the ride home, Kehinde convinced me that we were seconds away from a definite car jacking and probably pretty close to getting killed too. He said that perhaps the guys wouldn't have shot us in front of the 10 year old girl, but maybe. I'm sure he was just playing another fun round of "scare whitey" but nonetheless, I'm pretty convinced they were at least ready to take the car. Can you imagine? Then Wagonwheel Wednesdays would've been known as Walking Wednesdays. Not exactly the same ring.
For those Delawarian readers, I'm sure your state has something offer the world other than Joe Biden, but until then, I'm voting you worst state in the Union. Sorry.
I'd rather be worst than second worst though. At least people may remember you exist now.
**As you can see from this map, I haven't been to much of Delaware. So please take my ranking with a grain of salt.
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