|I tried putting this on my "Yay For Me Wall," |
but Mrs. Penwasser would have none of it.
I'll have to settle for my "Yay For Me Blog."
I had originally thought to post this next week, but was
|"And Penwasser actually |
has the stones to
compare himself to me."
I had also thought to provide you with a handy link by which you can access Part I of this mess. But, seriously, do any of you have the time to actually click on a link and look at old crap? Yeah. What I thought.
|"No, the old guy in the hat just won't leave. |
He's going on and on about Penwasser.
Now, I don't really blame him.
Sure, that hideous little jerk can be a real pain the ass, but I've got work to do.
Gotta get a head start on my NCAA brackets."
|"Who is this?"|
So to help, here's what's happened so far. My Great Aunt May has decided to relocate to Florida with her friend, Eleanor. What follows is the letter she wrote me describing her adventures traveling from Connecticut to the Sunshine State.
Yeah. None of this actually happened. I'm being an impish manipulator of facts (aka I'm a liar). Although, I do have an Aunt May. Rather, I did have an Aunt May. She's dead now.
|"LIke you'll be. |
Probably a lot sooner than you think, wiseguy."
Wow. That's it? Huh. Yeah, I guess I don't have anything on George R.R. Martin.
|"Especially since there's no sex or violence."|
|"So, you have that going for you."|
So, without further adieu (French for "A Dieu")...
Part II of La Ciruela Pasa
Aloha from the Sunshine State! As you can tell, your Aunt May has finally landed where it’s nice and warm. It must be terrible for you way up there in the Winter Wonderland. I hear it’s going to be 70 degrees over Labor Day weekend where you are. Ha! Ha!
Our trip was quite an adventure, starting when Eleanor’s car
began acting up near a
place called South of the Border.
Wow! I didn’t know Mexico
was so close to South Carolina!
|No. Not racist at all.|
I'm shocked this place still exists.
A very helpful man called Ernest fixed us up real nice. He didn’t look Mexican, although he did wear a shawl over his coveralls. He told us we needed a new transmission, tires, rear disc brakes, anti-freeze flush, something called a Johnson Valve Realignment, computer diagnostic, front-end alignment, CV joint replacement, lamb skin seat covers, new bearing grease, and BOSE speakers.
|"And foam dice for your rear-view mirror!"|
Yeah. This is racist.
Eleanor was reluctant but, once he threw in one of those cute pine tree air fresheners, she realized it was the safest thing to do. Thank goodness for that helpful amigo! He really “primped” our ride (is that how you kids say it?)!
|They're Chinese! |
And they're handcuffs!
|"Oh, yeah? Well, we got nukes, too. |
Several hours later, we turned around at the Welcome to Virginia sign.
|"Yup. That's $100. Each. |
Gotta buy new shirts."
It was a beautiful ride down the highway. I wish you could have seen all the beautiful places we saw: lush pine forests, dense swamps, rolling farmland, and charming little gas stations with huge tin men dressed as lumberjacks holding tires standing in front.
And, let me tell you, that highway was immaculate, especially in Georgia. Why, I wish I had a dollar for every man in overalls (but no shirt) I saw scraping some dead animal off the road. What public servants!
We managed to go for quite some time without stopping.
Before we left Virginia, I bought a couple of bags of pork
rinds and a two liter bottle of Diet Black Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper with
Splenda from the 7-11. We had
plenty of food.
|"We've got seven year old hot dogs, too."|
I must admit that I got plenty hungry when Eleanor mentioned she saw something called pressed ham from inside of a high school bus. Must be some sort of Southern specialty, I thought.
We pulled off at a truck stop near Savannah. A huge place with fuel pumps as far as the eye could see, it was all hustle and bustle. Monstrous trucks idled in line waiting to fill up and we saw quite a few women truck stop employees bounce from truck to truck. Such Southern hospitality!
After topping off our gas tank, we hungrily looked for a place to eat. All that ham talk had left me famished. Finally, after spotting a blinking neon sign which said “Eats” behind the shower area, our search was complete.
Inside was a charming diner set-up. It was a lot like you’d find back home, except for the farm equipment and dead things hanging from the walls. Our waitress, a cute little girl who wore her hair up in a huge orange bouffant with a box of pencils sticking from it, sweetly asked us where we were from.
After we told her New England, she made a note in her order pad and chatted about how beautiful the weather was down South, especially in the winter. With a chuckle, she laughed at how all us “Yankees” swarm down I-95 every time it snowed in New York. Then, with a serious look, she told us how important tourists like us were to her business.
|Try the veal. |
It's to die for!
We declared that would hit the spot, so we ordered two. Closing her note pad with a flourish, our waitress spun on her heel and disappeared in an orange flash of pencils toward the kitchen.
Within minutes, our orders arrived and we proceeded to devour them like we hadn’t eaten in days. Well, my pork rinds had run out after we’d passed South of the Border for the second time and my pecan log roll had melted into the heater vents, so I was a little hungry.
Even though my food was tasty, I found several little pebbles in the meat which I took for grits. I also thought I detected a faint order of burnt rubber but, no matter. I wolfed it down like it was my last meal.
Eleanor, on the other hand, insisted she saw tire treads on her cut of meat.
“Don’t be silly,” I scolded her, “those are grill marks from when they cooked it.”
Even though she gave me a skeptical look, she managed to clean her plate as well as I.
When our waitress returned, she asked if we wanted dessert. As much as I like sweet things, I had to say no because my stomach was a little unsettled. Must have been that rich Southern food, I opined.
“Takes a while,” she said. “Some people never get used to it and have to go back North.” She placed the check in front of me. “Ya’ll have a nice day.”
I turned to look at Eleanor, who appeared a little greener than when we first walked in. I asked if she was ready to go.
With a pained expression, she blurted that she was indeed ready to go. At that, she leapt from her seat and bolted to the Ladies Room.
Seconds later, I joined her.
An hour later, we were back on the road.
To be continued....
To be continued....
|"Not so easy, is it?"|
|"Thank goodness. He's finally gone."|
|"Who is this?"|