Me? An adventure? Hi, have we met?
This content has been archived. It may no longer be relevant
So currently I’m in Athens, TN enjoying a nice room and a free continental breakfast.
We hit the road yesterday at about 6am and headed south. I only knew a few days prior that Doug wanted to do a little sight-seeing on his week off, so I’m sure the coffeehouse where I spend most of my time has organized search parties to look for me.
It rained most of Michigan and Ohio down 75, but we made excellent time. Somewhere in Ohio, we “met” people who disagreed with my bumper stickers:
There is also a small besom in the rear-view mirror, you know, in case of breakdowns.
Most people ignore them or laugh, as I can see them in my rear view mirror. Some people have an adverse response, and I can understand that as I often feel like ramming cars with Pro-Life stickers plastered on the back.
On I-75, I pass a car with a man, a woman, and a teenager. The car is beige (yawn) and has Florida plates. I glance into my mirror and they’ve all crossed their index fingers towards my car. I turn to Doug, amused to no end and jerk my thumb over my shoulder. “Dig the Christians,” I said, but by then they’d stopped. These things never bother me, because hey – I’m not the one going to Hell.
We drive on, and I’m cruising at a steady 68, the angry villagers behind us and forgotten. About then we’d noticed that the AC wasn’t working and the weather was only going to become more unbearable in terms of humidity as we headed South. As it was it, the vents were blowing a fetid mixture of warm and damp and I wasn’t having that. I make the executive decision to pull off at the next rest area and try to pry off the front plate to see if it’s a cord I can reconnect.
We pull off and I try to pry off the plastic with a nail file while Doug uses the facilities. Who should pull up beside me – that’s right – our cross-forking Christians.
They look a-feared.
Mom and Son scoot out to the facilities and Dad walks the dog. He never speaks though Doug remarks on the niceness of the dog. I clean out the car, not because I don’t want to leave it to be vandalized, but because it has to be done. I can see Mom and Son peering out through the concession stand glass at me. I’m finding this hilarious.
Doug returns and it’s my turn to pee. I head inside just as Mom and Son choose to exit. They can’t just turn around – that would be rude. We pass in the entrance and I say in my best soft condescending southern – “Y’all have a safe trip now.”
This would be funny all by itself, but there’s more. We pulled off just outside of Louden (KY) to fill up (our first fill up, by the way – love my car), stopped for late lunch in DogPatch (KY), pulled off in Knoxville just to do it. A bunch of stops we wouldn’t have normally made if we were on a time schedule, however since this trip is spur of the moment and we have no place to be, we’re really dogging it.
We decide that we’ll visit Mayfield Dairy Farms in Athens, TN in the morning and then on to Chattanooga. We were going to hit the Lost Sea Adventure outside of Sweetwater, but changed our minds as it was getting on past five o’clock. We’re four exits from Athens when I turn my head and who is in the car beside us, waving frantically, but our Florida Cross-Forkers.
I wave back because it’s the polite thing to do. I’m fairly sure they believed they had to make amends or I’d haunt them all the way to Florida.
I wonder if I’ll see them in Chattanooga.
0 Comments