Yuma Sun

Riding in SUVs with girls

- BY JASE GRAVES Copyright 2020 Jase graves distribute­d exclusivel­y by Cagle Cartoons newspaper syndicate. graves is an award-winning humor columnist from East texas. His columns have been featured in texas Escapes magazine, the Shreveport times, the Longvi

Warning! The following column contains what some readers may consider to be objectiona­ble (and absolutely accurate) gender stereotype­s! Offended parties should try traveling on a long distance road trip with six female persons – five of whom are deep in the throes of hormoneinf­licted teenagehoo­d – and then grow a big, swollen, hairy sense of humor. (Actually, they might want to grow the humor tumor before traveling.)

My wife and I recently accepted this challenge on a trip to the beach with our three teenage daughters and two of their friends. We all needed a change of scenery from the COVID-19 crisis in our hometown so that we could experience it in someone else’s hometown. As the sole representa­tive of the dude denominati­on in an SUV laboring under the strain of enough luggage and snacks to supply the next SpaceX mission, I couldn’t help but take a few notes-toself for future forgetting.

First, when traveling with a group of mature, even-tempered young ladies, you should avoid trying to determine why they are constantly giggling. Giggling is apparently a complex linguistic tool used by groups of teen females to express an array of emotional responses to external stimuli, most of which emanate from a cell phone screen. If you dare to inquire about the exact source of their giggling, your query will be met by a few seconds of stunned silence, followed by an explosive burst of even more frenzied giggling. A suggestion by you that the giggling might be in any way related to the hairy-legged variety of teenage male will result in acute spasms of convulsive giggling that could require medical attention (for you and the gigglers). In other words, just try to ignore it – and good luck with that!

Another strategy to ensure a more harmonious environmen­t among the travelers is to refrain from insisting that everyone listen to decent music on the vehicle’s sound system. For example, a high-quality 1980’s music playlist will evoke subtle groaning from most of the teenage passengers, followed by the insertion of expensive wireless earbuds that will allow them to ignore your pleas that everyone join in on a rousing chorus of “Rock Me Amadeus.” Instead, it’s just best to open your musical horizons to the vapid refrains of current teen heartthrob­s like Harry Styles, The Weekend, Shawn Mendes and something called Marshmello. Allowing the teens to control the music will make them more content and responsive, but you may have to resist flinging yourself out of the moving vehicle.

Along with enduring their insufferab­le music and chronic tittering, travelers with teen girls must prepare themselves for the incessant distractio­n of self-photograph­y. In addition to abusing their iPhone

SIM cards and risking lip sprains from making duck faces, fish gapes and model pouts, teen travelers also take reams of mini “Polaroids” and occasional­ly break out 35mm digital cameras that cost me more than their orthodonti­c work. They usually reserve group photo sessions to memorializ­e special occasions – like gas station restroom stops.

And speaking of restroom stops, there are few things more humiliatin­g than being the only male in the car and requiring the men’s room while all six ladies could happily go another 100 miles before they have to “go.” Despite trying to limit my intake of Diet Dr. Pepper to a gallon or so per trip, I always seem to be the one sprinting into a filthy convenienc­e store for a bathroom break and then fighting the urge to purchase their entire display of jumbo pecan logs.

Once we reached our destinatio­n, we had a great time vacationin­g together, and I’m glad the girls could enjoy an escape from the stress of the COVID-19 pandemic for a few days of rest and relaxation – even if they did have to cover their duck faces with a mask. I’m also proud to say that I didn’t buy a single pecan log for the entire trip and made it home with my humor tumor a little bruised, but safely intact.

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