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Part Six: Just Grab a Friend and Take a Ride

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"Seatbelts?"

Click. Click. Click. "Check."

"Map?"

"Check."

"Directions printed from Google Maps?"

"Check."

"IPod stored with appropriate traveling music?"

"Check."

"And for the last time, does anyone have to use the bathroom?"

"No need." Howard grinned. "I have my Stadium Pal."

Leonard glared at him. "Howard, I am not driving fifteen hundred miles with you and a bag of pee. Leave the Pal at home."

"Fine," Howard grumbled. "But we'll have to make a stop."

Leonard sighed. "Fine, we'll go to this 7-11 up here." He turned the car into the convenience store parking lot. "Now, we only have so much budgeted, so get some cheap snacks and no ice cream!"

"Just cause you're lactose intolerant doesn't mean we can't have any fun," Raj muttered, but was silenced by a look from Leonard.

"Ten minutes, then back in the car, got it?"

The other boys nodded.

The store was empty, and the three of them were the only customers. As they browsed the candy aisle, Raj said, "You know what I'm really hoping for? That while we're in here a hot lady bandit tries to rob the store and takes us as hostages and uses us as getaway drivers. Then we find out about her tragic past and bond with her as she slowly begins to trust for the first time and falls in love with me."

"Raj, don't be ridiculous," Leonard said. "Besides, if she were to fall in love with one of us, it would definitely be me."

"That stuff only happens in the movies," Howard said. "Also, she would fall in love with me."

"No way! Hot lady bandit would definitely be interested in some brown sugar!" Raj cried.

The argument continued for the first fifty miles of the trip.

Then, a tire went flat.

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Sheldon squeezed into his seat on the bus with horror. On one side was a grossly overweight man wearing a stained tank top and ball cap with a mustache that had an unidentifiable substance matting it together. On his other side was a surly teenage girl who would not give up the arm rest and did not look up once from her iPhone.

Terror filled every cell of Sheldon's body. Could he really handle these people for the next one thousand, five hundred thirty-two miles? Perhaps he should try to make chitchat. According to Penny, that was what most people did in these situations.

"I see you're using an iPhone." Sheldon said to the girl. She gave him a fleeting glance of disgust but did not reply.

"I don't like iPhones," Sheldon continued. "Their hardware is close sourced and their applications are user friendly. I don't like that. I prefer the Droid. It's a far superior machine, although their network leaves much to be desired."

"Dude, I don't care," the girl said without looking up.

Sheldon looked away, hurt. "You're right. You shouldn't care, your parents should. What a waste of their money." He turned to the man. "I see from your hat that you like the Orioles."

"The Orioles suck." The man grunted.

"Then why do you have a hat with their logo on it?"

"It was my brother's."

"He gave it to you?"

"No, he's dead." The man pulled a folded up newspaper from under his thigh and began to read.

Sheldon paused, then said, "Are the Orioles a basketball team or a baseball team? I know you're wearing a baseball cap, but most franchise sports make baseball style caps with team logos on them."

The man did not look over from his paper as he replied in a gruff voice, "Baseball."

"Oh." said Sheldon in realization. "I don't like baseball. I don't like most sports, actually. Although my father forced me to watch football with him when I was a child. I can converse somewhat about that, although I don't like to."

"I hate football."

"Really?" asked Sheldon. "That's odd. Your hulking physique and protruding brow are classic indicators of a football fan. I'm referring, of course, to American football, not soccer, which the majority of the world refers to as 'football.'"

"Listen, mister," the man was growing impatient. "I'm trying to read my paper. Just shut up, okay?"

"Oh. Yes. Perhaps it would be better if we were all silent." Sheldon faced forward and put his hands primly in his lap. "Although I'm not a 'mister,' I'm actually a doctor. Doctor Sheldon Cooper, PhD."

"Doctor, huh?" The man raised one thick eyebrow. "Can you look at this wart on my back?"

Before he had even turned, Sheldon had stood up in his seat and was scrambling down the aisle.

"Sir, sit down, the bus is in motion," the driver, a large black woman, called out to him.

"I'm sorry, but I just can't sit there," Sheldon said, grabbing onto a seat to steady himself. "I need to be reassigned."

"No reassignments," the driver replied in a flat tone.

Sheldon took a step closer. "I don't think you understand—"

"Behind the yellow line, sir." The driver said in a firm voice.

Sheldon rolled his eyes and stepped back. "I can't sit with those people. They are uneducated, unrefined, coarse plebeians." He looked behind him, surveying the other passengers, including a five year old boy wiping his boogers on his sister and an old lady who had taken her false teeth out of her mouth and was using them as a puppet. "Not like anyone else on this bus is any better."

"Sir." The driver did not look away from the road for a second. "I will tell you this one more time. Take. Your. Seat."

Sheldon took his seat, grimacing when the man pulled up the edge of his tank top revealing a gruesome looking wart. When Sheldon darted to the bathroom, sick, the man gave the teenaged girl a high five.

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On the side of the highway, Raj sipped his Slurpee as he watched Leonard and Howard try to change a tire.

"Howard, I thought you had a masters in engineering! You should be able to jack up a damn car!" Leonard shouted, waving the tire iron about.

"All that means is I can build a robot that can jack up the car! I don't know how to do this!" Howard screamed back. "I don't see you doing anything! You're supposed to be the muscle!"

"Now you're starting to sound like Sheldon!"

Howard gasped. "Don't you ever say that again!"

Raj smiled. "This is hilarious."

"What about you Koothrapali? Why don't you try to change the tire?"

Raj shrugged, finishing the last of his Slurpee happily. He handed his empty cup to Leonard, taking the tire iron from him at the same time. Pushing up his sleeves, he loosened the lug nuts on the flat, then placed the jack under the car and easily pumped it up. In no time at all, he had removed the lug nuts and the flat all together. He smoothly slid the new tire on and lowered the jack, tightening the lug nuts and double checking to make sure the tire was secure before replacing the hubcap.

"See? No problem!" Raj wiped his grease covered hands on his pants.

Leonard adjusted his glasses. "How did you—"

"Where did you learn how to do that?" Howard asked.

"What? You think we don't have auto shop in Indian high schools?" Raj retorted. "Pssh. You guys are so racist. Now come on, we're losing time. Only now, I get to sit up front."

Raj smiled and slid into the front passenger seat of the car. In defeat, Howard climbed into the back. Leonard shrugged and resumed his place behind the wheel.

"Okay, Raj," Leonard said, fastening his seatbelt, "You can sit up front, but you can't play all the Disney music on your iPod."

"What?" cried Raj. "Howard was right about you. You don't let us have any fun."

Howard gave a palms-up gesture. "See? Thank you!"

Leonard sighed. "This is going to be a very long one thousand, four hundred and eighty-two miles."