by Shane Dawson
SAKSA: White people are crazy.
Over the next week I learned a lot on the white bus. That’s a lie; I wasn’t paying attention. But I did learn that I’m more of a chocolate guy than I am a sour guy. And that was honestly a big revelation for me. All those years I had thought my first choice would be Sour Patch Kids but then I realized God had a different plan for me. Peanut butter and chocolate. Praise the Lord.
Everything seemed to be going well until one day when the three brothers taught us a lesson about homosexuality being wrong. This was back in the nineties, so things were much different. There were many people who were outspokenly antigay, and most of them were coming from a Christian mind-set. Even at age ten, I knew something wasn’t right.
NECK-HAIR GUY 1: And so that’s why homosexuality is wrong. Does anyone have any questions?
ME: Ya, do gay people go to hell?
NECK-HAIR GUY 1: We aren’t supposed to say that, but it does say in the Bible that if you disobey God and love the same sex then you will spend an eternity in the fiery pits of hell.
ME: It says that?
NECK-HAIR GUY 1: I paraphrased it a bit. Kit Kat?
That day I didn’t feel like candy. I didn’t feel like taking anything from them at all. I was starting to wonder if this bus was here to brainwash kids instead of giving them a safe place to go after school. I thought talking to a group of ten-year-olds about homosexuality was incredibly over the line. But I was too scared to say anything, so instead I just waited until the discussion was over and got off the bus. As we walked out, the hairy boys yelled at us in unison.
NECK-HAIR GUYS: Tomorrow is Bring a Friend day! We’ll have candy AND nachos!
Fuck everything I just said! They were gonna have NACHOS?? I decided I could put up with the prejudice for one more day. The next afternoon I convinced Saksa to come with me to the white bus. But it wasn’t easy.
ME: Come on, please!
SAKSA: I don’t know; they sound scary.
ME: They are. But not in a threatening way. More in a Michael’s employee way.
SAKSA: I dunno.
ME: They are gonna have free nachos.
SAKSA: Who’s got two thumbs and loves her some baby Jesus?! THIS GIRL!
That day after school Saksa and I made our way onto the bus, excited about the processed-cheese product to come. As we made our way to our seats the three hairy guys got in front of the group and introduced the day’s topic.
NECK-HAIR GUY 2: I’m so happy so many of you brought friends! Now, who here is Christian?
Pretty much everyone except for Saksa raised their hands.
NECK-HAIR GUY 2: And what are you, miss?
SAKSA: I’m Buddhist.
NECK-HAIR GUY 2: Oh, that’s nice. That man is so fun to look at! Like a big Beanie Baby!
NECK-HAIR GUY 3: Ooooooh, I LOVE Beanie Babies!
SAKSA: What did you just say?
NECK-HAIR GUY 2: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. Why don’t you tell the group a little bit more about your religion?
SAKSA: Ok. What do you want to know?
NECK-HAIR GUY 2: Tell us what you believe in. What are some fun things you do to celebrate your god? We like to sing songs about Jesus and put on puppet shows.
SAKSA: Oh, well we don’t really do that. But we do believe in reincarnation, which is pretty cool.
NECK-HAIR GUY 2: Tell us about that.
SAKSA: Well, basically it means that when you die you come back as someone else.
NECK-HAIR GUY 1: WOW! That sounds like a crazy movie!
All the neck-hair guys started to laugh.
SAKSA: It’s not. It’s what I believe in.
NECK-HAIR GUY 1: I know! I’m just saying, it sounds very fun! Almost like an episode of Sabrina, the Teenage Witch!
NECK-HAIR GUY 3: Oooooh, I LOVE Sabrina!! That talking cat is HYSTERICAL!
SAKSA: NO! It’s not a TV show. It’s my religion!
Saksa started to get so frustrated I thought she was going to cry.
ME: Maybe we should change the subject. Who wants nachos?!
SAKSA: Fuck this. I’m out.
Saksa stormed off the bus. As I went to follow her one of the hairy-necked guys grabbed me by the shoulder.
NECK-HAIR GUY 1: You can be friends with her Shane, but just remember, everything she says is a lie. It’s not her fault; it’s her parents’ fault for teaching her those things. But as her friend it’s now your job to make her realize that Jesus is the only way.
ME: You know what, the only reason I started coming to this stupid bus was because you guys were passing out treats and had surprisingly comfortable seating for a bus, but I’m done. You know what I learned today?
NECK-HAIR GUY 1: That God works in mysterious ways?
ME: No, I learned that I know a lot more about God than you do. God doesn’t judge. God doesn’t make people feel bad for what they believe in. God doesn’t care if you’re gay or not. God is love. That’s all he is. And I know God made all of us in his image, but he must have fucked up with you guys, ’cause you are the farthest thing from God I have ever seen.
I stormed off the bus and left those hairy freaks speechless. I caught up with Saksa, who was sitting on the street corner looking up at the sky.
ME: Hey. I’m sorry about those guys. I just told them off. It was awesome. I’m pretty sure they are gonna crash their bus into a gas station.
SAKSA: Cool.
ME: What are you looking at?
SAKSA: The sky.
ME: Trying to find clouds that look like penises?
SAKSA: No. Who does that?
ME: I dunno. NOT me.
SAKSA: Do you think it’s all bullshit?
ME: Religion?
SAKSA: Ya.
ME: I dunno. I’m not sure which one is the truth. Or if any of them are. But I’m pretty sure there’s somebody up there watching all the dumb shit we do and laughing.
She laughed. I’d made her smile. That time I didn’t do it for the candy.
ME: Hey, we should make our own club.
SAKSA: What? The fat kids who will eat anything club?
ME: Whoa! You should join the psychic club, ’cause you just READ MY FUCKIN’ MIND!
We laughed as we stared up at the sky. It was a moment I’ll never forget. The first time I stuck up for a friend and also the first time I stuck up for myself. Maybe fifth grade wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
ME: Seriously though, can we go to 7-Eleven and get nachos? It’s all I can think about.
SAKSA: Totally.
Welcome to Mexico
About the Artist
ERIKA GRAPE has had a passion for art her entire life. She went to a fine arts–specialized high school and has big dreams. At the age of twenty-one, after a one-and-a-half-year detour to early childhood education, followed by some time at a university, she’s beginning to pursue a creative career in the course of aiming for an art degree. Born and raised in a small Swedish town just outside of Stockholm, she is ready to make her own path in life and take on the world. Follow her everywhere @erikagrape.
When people ask me what my dream vacation is I always give the same answer: sleeping pills and a hole in my mattress that I can pee into. Traveling has never been a passion. There’s nothing intriguing to me about packing up all my crap and sitting in a hot, sweaty death trap for five hours while hundreds of people fart simultaneously into sticky pleather chairs. I don’t need to pay $500 for a plane ticket to sit in a room full of farts. I can just do that at home for the low cost of one Chipotle bowl.
One of the biggest differences between me and my last girlfriend, Lisa, was her love of traveling and my love of sitting on the couch all weekend twisting my pubic hair into small balls so they were easier to pull out. She should have known what she was in for on our first date when our conversation went a little something like this:
LISA: So, what’s the one place you want to visit before you die?
ME: Wow, that’s hard! I’d
say it’s a toss-up between the donut shop in Texas that puts the icing and sprinkles INSIDE the donut or the Full House house.
LISA: You’re kidding, right?
ME: No! It’s 100 percent real! I don’t know how the icing and sprinkles don’t completely disintegrate after being put in the deep fryer, but honestly, I’ve just decided to stop questioning shit. Life is just crazy, you know? Let’s embrace it.
I go in for a cheers with my drink. She just stares at me confused for a good three minutes.
ME: Side note, do you think Kimmy Gibbler is based on a real person? And part two, who in your life do you consider to be a total Gibbler? Discuss.
Ya, my first-date conversation skills weren’t great. But for whatever reason, Lisa didn’t go to the bathroom and jump out the window. About a year into our relationship she asked me if I ever wanted to take a trip to Europe with her. I knew the correct answer was yes, but I didn’t want to lie to her. It didn’t sound fun to me. I don’t have a problem with Europe or with going to other countries. My main problem is being trapped on a plane for ten or more hours having to watch shitty movies that literally nobody would ever choose to watch in the real world. I was once so desperate for entertainment on a long plane ride that I watched a documentary about people who were in love with inanimate objects. A lady married a roller coaster, and I actually cried. This is what planes do to me.
LISA: Come on! Let’s go to Europe!
ME: I don’t know. Can’t we just find something cool to do around here?
LISA: Like what? The only thing close to us is the beach and you refuse to go there.
ME: It’s not my fault! The sand freaks me out. Why is there SO much of it? And how long has it been there?! Like a million years? You know how gross that is?
LISA: This coming from a guy who asked me the other day what the purpose of shower soap was.
ME: What’s the point of it when the shampoo is just going to drip down my body anyways?!
LISA: Please, let’s just go! We can go to Paris and see the Eiffel Tower! And then we can go to Amsterdam and see a sex show! And then we can go to Rome and see the ruins!
ME: What’s a sex show?
LISA: It’s a theater where there’s a couple having sex onstage and the audience watches!
ME: Well, here in America we just call that porn, and we can watch it from the comfort of our own homes.
LISA: You watch porn?
ME: NO! NEVER! You’re the only porn I need, baby!
LISA: Just tell me at some point we will leave the country together?
ME: Of course.
Two lies in a row. Not only did I have no intention of leaving the country, I also watched porn EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. But sometimes in relationships you have to tell a little lie to keep your partner happy. Or maybe you shouldn’t do that and that’s the reason relationships don’t work? Whatever, I’m not a therapist.
So to my surprise, a year later we ended up taking a trip to another country, even though we weren’t planning on it. Except it wasn’t a trip as much as it was a horrible mistake that almost got us arrested and killed.
One weekend Lisa and I decided to go down to San Diego to visit some of her friends. I’ve always been a fan of San Diego, mainly because it is the mecca for Mexican food, since it is so close to the Mexican border. After a fun couple of days eating tacos and wandering around a cute little beach town we decided to get in our car and head back to Los Angeles. On the car ride back home we got into a really heated discussion that made us lose track of the direction we were headed. But we couldn’t help it. It was a VERY serious debate.
LISA: No, he didn’t!
ME: Yes, he did! The guy from Blue’s Clues killed himself !
LISA: If he killed himself, I think more people would have heard about it.
ME: It was a cover-up! They replaced him with some random guy that looked nothing like him, and all the kids watching were too stupid to catch it!
LISA: That makes no sense. Why would he have killed himself anyway?
ME: One word: “illuminate.”
LISA: What the fuck is that?
ME: Umm . . . only the biggest underground organization in the world that is controlling everything using their powers that they have gained through deals with the devil.
LISA: No, not that. The sign coming up!
We both looked straight ahead and didn’t see the “Welcome to Los Angeles” sign we were expecting. Instead we saw something truly frightening.
ME: WELCOME TO MEXICO?!
That’s right. We had gotten so engrossed in our Blue’s Clues conspiracy theory that we didn’t notice that we were going in the opposite direction. In the words of the country we were entering, this was NO BUENO.
LISA: Turn around!!
ME: I can’t! All the cars are going in this direction!
LISA: Is there an exit?!
ME: Um, YES! The HUGE exit from America to Mexico!
LISA: Oh my God!
As we passed the Welcome to Mexico sign we saw a sea of taillights in front of us. There were huge lines of cars waiting to get through the border.
LISA: Oh no. We don’t have our passports!
ME: Ok, don’t panic! We can get through this! Remember that one time we went to Disneyland and they ran out of Fastpasses?
LISA: Shane, pretending you have a fake leg isn’t going to help us in this situation!
ME: Well, do you have a better idea?!
LISA: Let’s just say we got lost and want to go home.
ME: Do you WANT to get your head chopped off ?
LISA: Ok, let’s just talk to the person at the gate and maybe they will help us.
ME: Oh no.
LISA: What?
ME: My friend was in my car last weekend.
LISA: So?
You know how we all have that friend who is so full of pot that their body just leaks it? Well, that friend had been in my car the weekend before, and I was about 99 percent sure there were traces of marijuana in my backseat.
ME: There might be pot in the car.
LISA: Are you fucking kidding me??
I’d never wanted to be the guy from Blue’s Clues more in my life. I was about to be trapped in Mexico with no passport, no money, and a car full of weed. I wished someone would kill me and replace me with a look-alike. But hoped he had good hair. My fear is that someone tells me I look like someone with a receding hairline.
LISA: Where’s the pot?!
ME: I don’t know! I just know she probably dropped some of it somewhere or hid it in a seat cushion.
LISA: Who the hell is this friend?! The fuckin’ Easter bunny?!
We were next in line, and the gatekeeper waved us forward. It was the moment of truth. Time to act super casual and be really rational and explain that this was all just a giant misunderstanding.
GATE WOMAN: Next!
ME: Hi! We’re Americans and we’re scared!!
I instantly started bawling my eyes out.
LISA: What are you doing?!
ME: I don’t know! I don’t want to go to jail!
GATE WOMAN: Next!
ME: Wait, don’t you want to check our passports? Or look in our car?!
Lisa punched me in the side to shut me up. The gatekeeper waved us through and didn’t want anything to do with us. We got in with no problem! What a relief !
I pulled the car over, and we started laughing hysterically. All the adrenaline had caused us to go into some kind of insane mental state where everything was hilarious to us.
ME: Did you see how much I was crying?!
LISA: Ya! That was the most unattractive you’ve ever been to me! I would rather fuck my own brother than fuck you right now!
We laughed for a few minutes, and then reality set back in.
ME: Wait . . . how do we get out?
LISA: Well, we just go to the exit side of the border and tell them what happened. I’m sure they will just let us through. Just start crying again. You’re good at that
.
As I pulled the car back into the street I noticed a long line of cars that extended farther than the eye could see.
ME: Wow, I wonder what that line is for?
As I followed the line with my eyes I saw it led all the way up to where we were. And that’s when it hit me.
ME: Oh my God. That’s the line to GET OUT!
And in that moment it wasn’t just me who turned on the waterworks, it was both of us. Lisa and I started wailing like children who just got slapped in the grocery store for stealing too many grapes. I could barely understand what she was saying through all her tears and gasps.
LISA: That . . . line . . . is . . . gonna take . . . forever!
ME: And we’re almost out of gas!! And our money doesn’t work here!!!!
Not only were we trapped in Mexico with no passport and no money, we had about an hour’s worth of gas left before we were totally stranded.
ME: Maybe the line goes fast?! Let’s ask someone!
I drove over to another car near the front of the line. I asked the driver to roll down his window.
ME: Excuse me! How long did it take you to get to the front?
STRANGER: Tres días!
LISA: What did he say?
ME: I don’t know. It sounded like “quesadillas.”
LISA: Ask again.
ME: What??
STRANGER: TRES DÍAS!
LISA: Wow. He really is saying “quesadillas.” How bizarre. Maybe it’s slang here?
ME: English, please? Sorry, we’re not from here!
A woman popped out from the passenger seat with a plastic fan in her hand, looking like she was near death.
WOMAN: He said THREE DAYS!
At that moment I could hear my heart stop beating. I turned to Lisa, and she was white as a ghost. We were screwed. The crying came back.
ME: It’s gonna be ok! We can get through this!
LISA: How??
I looked around the exit of the border and noticed an empty lane next to the full one.
ME: Ok, let’s go through that empty lane and just play stupid when we get to the gatekeeper.
LISA: I think that’s a lane for cops only.
ME: Well, what’s the worst that can happen? They aren’t gonna shoot us!
LISA: How do you know that?