Tales from the Road

Road trips almost always result in good stories to tell and our journey Tuesday night was no exception.

Right On Time

When did you want to leave again?

I had decided to take Tuesday off with the intention of hitting the road around noon for our drive down to Mississippi.

Tammy and I had started packing Monday night so Tuesday morning was basically going to be putting the finishing touches on everything before loading up the car.

Did you notice the use of “was” in that sentence?

That’s what it “was” sposed to be.

I had taken my car to get serviced before our trip. It took a little longer than I had expected and it wasn’t finished until a few minutes before noon.

I hopped in and raced home thinking all I’d have to do was load the car. Instead I was greeted by a wet-headed, nekkid Tammy.

But this wasn’t the “How YOU doin’” kind of nekkid. Nope, this was the I just got out of the shower, haven’t gotten dressed, which means I’m not finished packing kind of nekkid.

So, instead of leaving at noon, we didn’t pull out of our driveway until 1:45.

Things You Don’t Want To Hear

There's stuff on the seat...

A few hours into our trip we pulled in for a bathroom break.

A woman working at the store stopped Tammy as she was about to walk in the women’s bathroom.

Worker: Hold on, there’s stuff on the seat.

Stuff on the seat isn’t something you want to hear as you head into a public/truck stop/gas station bathroom.

Tammy thinks it was cleaning stuff because there was one of those “Wet Floor” signs in front of the door.

But since there was no way to tell for sure, she hovered.

The Songs They Keep a Changin’

I still remembered the songs I learned from our trip down to Gulf Shores, Alabama, this summer, but apparently those aren’t considered popular anymore.

Turns out that the Top 40 songs change from week-to-week.

Some of the songs Tammy was listening to made me want to kill myself, others sounded like they were actually from the early 80s.

The only song I really remember was something called “Fell in Love in a Homeless Place.” Who knew that homeless shelters are good pick-up places?

Look at All This Stuff

At our next bathroom stop I thought I lost Tammy.

She was right behind me as we entered the convenient store when I had the great idea to scare her.

I was going to hide just inside the hallway leading to the bathroom and jump out when Tammy came around the corner.

She never showed up.

Can I get the fish drinking a beer?

I peeked around the corner and saw her circling the souvenirs and thought about waiting for her anyway.

But when I heard the bathroom door behind me open I figured I prolly looked like a creeper and gave up hope of scaring Tammy.

I came out of the bathroom and headed back into the store where I found Tammy still looking over the souvenirs.

Me: We’re not even out of our state yet. What are you looking at this for? Who buys souvenirs from their own state?
Tammy: I dunno.
Me: Did you even go to the bathroom yet?
Tammy: Oh crap, I didn’t.
Me: You didn’t even go yet.
Tammy: No, I got distracted by stuff.

Don't make fun of me or I'll eat your soul.

Me: I thought it was because you were trying to eavesdrop on that Amish lady.
Tammy: No!! But I should have been.

There was an Amish lady, in the complete Amish garb (long, gray dress and white bonnet) with 2-3 kids, who looked like they came off the Children of the Corn set, running around looking at the same stuff that distracted Tammy.

Four bags of chips, two dranks and about 20 minutes later we finally hit the road.

I Knew We Forgot Something

After we got going again Tammy found an upbeat song on the radio and started pumping her arms toward the windshield.

Tammy: Oh man, I can’t believe I forgot my arm weights.
Me: I can’t believe you did either. But you can still workout without them right?
Tammy: It’s not the same.

She made a few more movements toward the windshield then stopped.

Tammy: See, it’s just not the same.

There’s an App for That

Not Tammy's friend.

We had started listening to police scanners through an app on my phone but we decided to see if there was an app that would let us listen to any of the trucker CB radios.

Tammy started scrolling through the apps.

Tammy: What kind of sex apps do they have?
Me: I have no idea.
Tammy: Yeah, right.

She found some CB apps but they didn’t really seem like there were truckers on them. It sounded like kids talking trash to each other on it.

She ended up looking for other apps and found one that I thought would be interesting, but Tammy didn’t.

Tammy: Oh, it’s a lie detector test.
Me: Oh really? You should get it.
Tammy: No way brotha.

Undercover Operations

Operation Smuggle Savannah looks a lot like this.

Around 9 pm, we pulled into a hotel in Marion, Illinois, about an 90 minutes north of Sikeston, Missouri, where I had intended to stop and about an hour later that I wanted.

I checked in, parked and sent Tammy up to the room while I began getting everything ready for Operation Smuggle Savannah.

I realized AFTER I checked in that the hotel was pet-friendly, but because I didn’t mention it at the time I had to sneak all 70 pounds of Savannah into our room.

I threw a blanket over her, kinda like how they tried to hide E.T., scooped her up into my arms and headed toward the door where Tammy was waiting.

When she opened the door I bolted inside and headed toward the stairs. Maybe that’s why they put the elevators so close to the front desk.

We were staying on the top floor of the hotel which made toting 70 lbs of bulldog up the stairs not much fun. By time I reached our floor my legs were burning and I was losing feeling in my arms.

Our room was near the stairs, which was good because if it had been much further I would have dropped Savannah.

Ok, truth be told, we were on the 3rd floor, which WAS the top floor so technically I told the truth.

As we settled in for the night, I started thinking about how far we were from Tupelo, what time we should leave and when we’d get there.

This entry was posted in 2011, Daily Life, Travel Logs and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.