unfortunate moment #4,293
It was —
One of those long drives I used to do on Hiway 10. Usually going from parts Louisiana or Texas headed parts home to California. It was night. The road was lonely. And [cover your eyes Great Aunt Agnes] I really had to pee. I mean really. Like wet your pants really.
In the middle of nowhere on a miles from nowhere drive sometimes you have to ask yourself, The car seat or the off ramp?
Texas is really flat too. There are not a lot of places where you can pull over and not be real visible from the highway, so even when you go with option two [pull over!] sometimes it takes a while to find a place that works to do that. But I did. Some feeder road, which Texas is full of because Texas is so big, they can not fill it up with just highways they have to put in feeder roads by every highway just to make it sort of look filled up.
It was not till I was parked on a feeder road, blocked by a miniscule rise of ground you could barely call a hill from casual highway stares in case any other car actually did show up at that time of night in that much nowhere [they will if you decide to park for this purpose, every time, unless you take precautions, you can be in the middle of nowhere and not have seen a car for five hours but the second you drop your skirt fifty Mac trucks and five families on vacation with small children WILL round the bend from some parrallel dimension do not ask how I know that], that I saw the sign on the chain link fence I was huddled next to.
“Texas blah blah Correctional Facility blah blah DO NOT stop vehicle DO NOT exit vehicle KEEP ALL DOORS LOCKED!”
[They were pretty emphatic about no hitchhikers too.]
Jeez. What a time to have your drawers down.
0 Responses to unfortunate moment #4,293
Oh God, I can’t stop laughing.
Betcha felt like Donald Pleasance in the first Halloween flick, eh?
I’ll bet you wish you had done your kiegle exercises so you could stop in the middle and hightail it.
This is when you swallow your pride and stash a pack of Depends in your backseat for that next long and lonely highway drive.
Splendid.
Hwy 10
Here I come.
But I’m going to pee first.
a.m.
Did they have surveillance cameras? I mean, post 9/11, there’s just no point taking risks with ppl who might be surreptitiously pissing on America.
Jeez, Gully, now I have these visions of the prison guards running the shot of me by the fence every time they have a party. Bad Gully, bad.
Wait. Stiletto’s advising you to use Depends? That might add a nice Lisa Nowak-stalking astronaut theme to your next road trip . . . .
I was seventeen or eighteen on that road trip, kinda early for Depends or keigel [sp?] I think. Come to think of it, the last hard alone road trip I did was from Texas to California. If I just would stay out of Texas maybe these things would not happen.
*note to self, stay out of texas
I’ve gone from Texas to New Mexico by car and that is a desolate stretch. Probably the least visually stimulating road trip ever.
Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona are all pretty much dead air. Arizona gets points for the night sky though [that moon gets so orange and fiery it looks like a distant volcano sometimes] and totally aberrant things all along the highway like a whole lot of “Asian hands” massage parlors with cop cars parked out front and strange signs about hell and perdition with arrows pointing down dirt roads you do not want to explore.
*note to self, stay out of texas
Texas seems to attract trouble. Didn’t Louise from Thelma and Louise want to avoid driving through Texas because she was raped there a long time ago, and remember the movie The Hitcher? Wasn’t it there in the desert that Sean Bean was slicing and dicing poor unsuspecting kids and families who picked him up? Or maybe it was New Mexico. Whatever. Oh, don’t forget the psychopath with the bad haircut from No Country for Old Men. Also, there’s a guy running around with a chainsaw who has a fondness for massacre.
Yup. Texas is a dangerous place.
Texas is like California, real big [well California is long] and broken into real different parts. So driving 10, well that is going to be real different from being up around the Panhandle, just like in California, parts Los Angeles and parts Eureka are practically different countries. [Eureka is true Nothern California, San Francisco is really in the middle though people forget that a lot.]
I thought Rutger Hauer was in “The Hitcher.” That goddamn movie turned me from french fries and ketchup for about three years . . .
Rutger was in the original. I like both versions.
‘Texas is like California, real big [well California is long] and broken into real different parts. ‘
Sounds like a few of the men I’ve dated. Oops.
BTW, Max, here’s another reason why you might want to skip driving through Texas –
http://www.npr.org/templates/player/mediaPlayer.html?action=1&t=1&islist=false&id=90554054&m=90554024
You can think FFE for that one…
I am afraid to hit that link.
Why? In NPR, no one can hear you groan . . . .
Oh, it’s harmless. And quite punny.