One Thursday after Academic Team, I decided to go to the Chick-fil-A on Long Point with some fellow members. John McQueen, Bowen Gao, myself, and a member who would wish to stay anonymous for legal reasons were all being driven there by the anonymous member. Ava Trolley was meeting us there too, driving her own car with her sister. While all of us were on the Don Holt, John, Bowen, the driver, and I got a call from Ava, who informed us that her sister requested to be dropped off at their house in Mount Pleasant before Ava would go to Chick-fil-A. What this meant for the four of us in the car was that we now had twenty minutes to kill.
We pondered where we would go on our mini road trip. Ultimately, we decided that the four of us would go to somewhere none of us had spent much time, yet a place we passed by twice every day: Daniel Island. The plan was simple. We would take the Daniel Island exit, and then immediately go south on Daniel Island Drive and keep going as far as it would go. I already knew from looking at maps that the southernmost point of Daniel Island accessible by road ends in a cul-de-sac. What made it more interesting though was that the cul-de-sac had a circular curb in the center of it, practically making it a roundabout with a single exit. We would go around that cul-de-sac ten times.
It took about ten minutes to get to the cul-de-sac. Tension was high as we realized the cul-de-sac was in a gentrified residential area, making us more prone to being called the cops on. However, we went on and got to the cul-de-sac. The first time we went round it, the absurdity of the situation had not quite hit us. The instant it was clear that we would not be taking the only exit and would be going around again, we lost it. I was laughing harder then than I had in months, as was everyone else in the car.
Halfway through the second revolution, we all noticed something. A young girl, about eight or nine, was on her lawn, watching all of us go around the cul-de-sac. She looked incredibly disapproving, but her sternness would not stop us. We kept going around the roundabout. However, the driver unexpectedly insisted that the number of revolutions be reduced to five in the presence of the child. Yet another time we passed the only exit. The four of us were in near-hysterics.
Finally, the driver suddenly freaked out and left the cul-de-sac after three revolutions. In response to everyone’s disappointment, he indignantly stated that the girl’s father had come out of the house and disappointingly gestured with his arms to all of us. John and I both insisted to the driver that he had merely hallucinated the dad and that there was nothing to worry about. I had been filming the whole time so I checked back the recording expecting to find no father. Incredibly, the man was there, visible for about five frames. His energy was the embodiment of “I’m not mad, just disappointed.”
The four of us all immediately left Daniel Island, fearing the reputation we might gain as “The Daniel Island Menaces.” At Chick-fil-A with Ava, we all knew that none of us would ever go to Daniel Island again.
