Trip to Dundalk – Salty Adventures
Chapter 7: The Recap
Looking back on it, Salty couldn’t help but smile. The trip to Dundalk had been spontaneous, chaotic, and absolutely perfect in its own mad way.
He thought of hitting the highway with Finji, the back roads winding through sleepy villages and green hedgerows. Picking up Sarah and Susan, two beautiful women who turned a simple drive into an unforgettable journey. The laughs, the flirty glances, and the jokes about that cursed GPS sending them to Timbuktu and back again.
He remembered WhizzAir’s gig – the bass thumping through his chest, the strobes lighting up Sarah’s blonde hair and Susan’s brunette curves as they danced close to him and Finji. Tofu Sundays with her stunning blonde girlfriend, the busty brunette friend in her tight red dress, and WhizzAir dropping his favourite tracks like the place was Ibiza, not Dundalk.
Then there was that dreadful Oasis tribute band upstairs. “Ehh, no thanks,” he thought again, chuckling as he sat in his kitchen sipping tea the next afternoon, still feeling the ache of exhaustion deep in his bones.
Finally, the drive home as dawn broke – dropping off Sarah and Susan with sleepy hugs and kisses goodbye, leaving Finji snoring in his seat, and himself collapsing into bed fully clothed with the early birds singing outside his window.
In the end, the trip was everything Salty loved about life. The road. The music. The unexpected friends. The beautiful women. The laughter. The chaos.
And as he drained the last sip of his tea, he thought to himself with a grin:
Where to next?
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