Road Trippin'

I have summoned the courage to step out from the shadow of my husband's curious writing abilities and add a bit more to our slightly read blog.

We are currently in Paoli, Indiana, the armpit of Amish Country. It's not important that you know where we are or even that this particular place exists except to add the necessary fact that 5/11ths of Paul's immediate family live here and the rest of us converged upon this place for the triptophan ridden holiday we commonly refer to as Thanksgiving. Paul and i left Denver this past Monday and decided, for the fun of it, to drive out here and fly back. The fact that his sister is buying his car from him is a minor detail.

Paul drove and i amused him to keep him awake; even when i was sleeping apparently, something about drool and talking in my sleep. We sang songs, told each other stories, and played the alphabet game forward and backward. Several times. We stopped only to refuel and empty our bladders. About 3am Tuesday morning we paused for one such break and bumped into some Midwestern hospitality. Paul filled up the tank and then we walked inside to find a restroom. We didn't see any obvious bathroom signage so Paul asked the invisible attendant, "Where are the restrooms?" From the back hall we heard a grumpy retort, "The ONE restroom is back here." Paul motioned for me to go first. I stepped into the small hall which had been turned into a stocking room. I was unsure, even upon entering the hallway, where this phantom room of rest was. The man was standing in front of a door. "Well, are you gonna go or what?" After another surveying moment i wondered at the door, but the man was still standing in front of it. Did he want me to push him out the way or squeeze behind him? He looked at me annoyingly. I guessed the latter, so i squeezed past him. Inside, finally, i realized it was once a public loo, but apparently the attendant had not been notified. By now i didn't care. One thought, "must go pee". Second thought, "Check for toilet paper". None, nada, zip, not one square left. I contemplated performing the hovercraft maneuver but its no secret that my legs are of the shorter variety, this toilet was unusually tall, plus i just wasn't in the mood to drip dry. I stepped back out, prepared to face the wrath of Grumpy Gas Grumperson. "Uh, sir, its out of toilet paper." I prepared not in vain. "Well, sh#%, of course it is." He scuffled into hall #2 and pretended to search. "Uh, can't seem to find any and...nope, don't have any." I hurried out to Paul. I brought him up to speed in about 3 seconds and in about 8 seconds we were back in the car and in search of another place. We found respite at a 24-hour-country- home-cookin' restaurant, whose water closet was not in much better shape than the previous but it did have TP so i didn't complain. Five minutes later we were back on the road again. Three and half hours later we made it to the Taylors, in Paoli, Indiana.