Wandering the streets of La Crosse, the eight or so of us were starving after sitting in the school suburban for hours, cramped together like sardines in a can, the smell of stale food lingering from the crevices. We checked into our hotel about an hour before deciding who would bunk with whom until Ms. Friedrichsen let us loose to find food. We hit the streets and realized we had already lost the freshmen.

“Hey, where are the Freshies,” 

“I don’t know. We said we’d be leaving the hotel, so it’s their loss if they did not see it.” I rescinded. 

“Bro, they got dominos and delivered it to the hotel.”

“Why? Do they not want to have fun and go out to eat?”

“Apparently not”

 It was a slow night in town. It felt like we were the only ones on the street, except for a local prom in the event center across the street from the hotel. We all had our phones out, searching Google for “Best food in La Crosse” and “Food Near Me.” 

“Hey, how about sushi? There is a place a few blocks away with decent reviews.”

“Sure, but I’ve never had sushi before.”

“Well, today is your lucky day.”

The place is called The Sushi Pirate. We walked over, but we all stopped in shock once we got to the restaurant. The Sushi Pirate looked utterly run down from the outside, it hardly looked open, but the sign was still faintly glowing.

“What is this place?”

“It looks like the best restaurant in town… to get food poisoning at.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not eating here.”

“Come on, we walked all the way over here; what the worst that could happen?”

“We all get sick and be unable to play all weekend.”

“Fair, but where else are we going to eat.”

“There is more than one sushi place here, buddy, and one that won’t make us sick.”

“Okay, fine, but I still want sushi.”

We all agreed that it seemed like a place we would not like to eat at, especially sushi, so we kept walking. On our journey, we passed an old building that had been long abandoned.

“I wonder what’s in there?” Dan, our most adventurous friend, questioned.

“No, absolutely not. We are not going in there.”

Rolling his eyes, he responded, “Come on, why not?”

“A million different reasons. What if there is a crackhead who attacks us or feral dogs who want to eat us, or what if it is a front for a criminal operation and we get kidnaped by drug traffickers.”

“Listen to yourself. You’re paranoid, Wyatt.”

We all pushed him aside and went inside.

“You will see when I’m the only one who makes it back!”   

The inside of the building was not as deteriorated as the outside made it seem. It was definitely unmaintained trash everywhere, primarily old snack bags and cans, and the whole building smelled like mildew and dust. But no crackheads were lurching around the corner, ready to kidnap us. We looked around the different rooms lit only by streams of light coming through the boarded-up windows but were far from the first ones to rummage through here. Suddenly the door slammed open we all jumped at the thought of cops coming to get us for trespassing. 

“How long will you guys keep me waiting out there.” 

We all are relieved as it’s just Wyatt.

“Did you really have to be as loud as possible? Let’s go before someone finds us.” 

Back on the streets, everyone was still arguing and talking over each other while growing hungrier until two of our members formed an ultimatum. 

“Why do we keep bickering? Let’s just eat.”

“Yeah, let’s just go to the next place we see.”

“Not fast food though, someplace nice.”

Of course, nobody agreed until those two just left and ate together while the rest of us knew that eventually, we would give up and just find some were to eat.

La Crosse is much bigger than Osceola. Even though they are both old river towns, La Crosse seemingly kept growing even after most of the industry left. Osceola only has one main street with shops and restaurants while La Crosse, at least from our country eyes, had infinite. To think what a big city would be like, not to say La Crosse is small. Still, its population of 52,000 only makes it the eleventh-largest city in Wisconsin. La Crosse is nothing compared to the Twin Cities, Chicago, or Milwaukee.

We must have been on the streets for at least an hour now, ever hungrier, which only made us more argumentative, Almost settling on somewhere. Still, someone always had an issue with it. After more wandering and arguing, we gave in to hunger and exhaustion and went into the first place we saw. We ended up at a fancy Mexican place where we ate and talked and tried to determine what we would do next.

“Are we doing anything else tonight or just going back to the hotel?”

“I mean, we could, but I’m tired. I could barely sleep on the ride here.”

“Come on. We’ve barely even seen the river. Let’s at least walk by the waterfront.”

“Fine.”

“While down there, let’s stop by The Pearl.”

“The Pearl?”

“Yeah, the ice cream shop that is meant to have the best ice cream ever.”

“According to who? I’d rather just go back.”

“And be lame like the Freshies.”

“Fine, let’s hurry and go then.”

 When we left, it was getting dark. Now we were not hungry; we were just tired. The streets were as empty as ever, with almost no cars passing by and no one with us on the streets. We were about a few blocks from the hotel when we walked to The Pearl. We decided to stop by. The line was long out the door.

“So this is where everyone was tonight, all getting ice cream for some reason.”

“Why is everyone so dressed up? Must be a high-class ice cream parlor.”

“Doubt it. They must be from that prom across the street.”

“Yeah, must be, but why would you get ice cream and risk messing up your fancy clothes.”

“Must be some good ice cream.”

After we eventually got our ice cream, we figured out why they would risk staining their opulent clothes. The ice cream was terrific. We walked back to the hotel, eating our various ice creams. 

“Only if we had more time to explore the river.” 

“Only if you could not have been so picky.”

“Like you should be talking, Mr. too good for Sushi Pirate.”

“Oh, like anyone in their right mind would eat there.”

“Why are you two still fighting?” 

We made it back to the hotel and met up with everyone who had left the group, the two deserters ended up at a good Japanese restaurant, but we all could agree that we were happy that we did not just eat pizza at the hotel. Laying on the hotel bed with the sheets holding me down tight, I started to think about the night and how it could have been so much better if we had all just agreed. Still, I realized that if we had, all that would have done was make it back to the hotel earlier. Even though it sounds cliche, it is about the journey, not the destination. If we did find some were to eat, we would have never seen that old building, or maybe we would have missed the Pearl. We would be sitting here in the hotel with nothing to do. With this thought, I fell asleep ready for our big day tomorrow.