Mom snores and Tinga spent the entire night scratching and pawing at her litter box. I have ear phones (courtesy of Ben) and The Smiths to drown out their unpleasant duet tonight.
After complimentary yogurt and coffee...and a Belgian waffle, mom and I hit the road. We managed to get on I20 before noon today, and felt pretty confident we would hit our no-driving-after-dark-goal (that's foreshadowing). Daddy was right, this drive is a snooze. Long, straight highway with not a lot of sights except miles of stretching wind generators that made me picture myself like Don Quixote and my mother, the squire Sancho, off to fight ferocious giants (aka, the windmills...or in this scenario wind generators). And then after awhile, we abandoned the wind generators for oil rigs. Good ol' west Tx oil and money. Even out in the middle of this flat, barren land there was the occasional Rolex billboard. I guess catering to that generations old oil money. Also, we drove through Notrees, Texas where there was a post office and shockingly, no trees.
We stopped in Odessa looking for food and chose Long John Silvers. Why not? Odessa is the most atrocious city I have ever been in. No joke. Everything is horizontal and dead and short. I felt squished and flattened in this ugly city. It was just dust and parallel lines, nothing angular except for the roof on the short, tiny homes. Dear Maria, how we have felt no greater love for her than today. Instead of sending us back to the familiar, comfortable highway, she sent us the more desolate back roads way. With half a tank, why bother filling up? Not yet at least. And then, 150 miles later we have passed two cars, one dilapidated post office and no, may I repeat, NO gas stations. Bowser gave it the old college try but couldn't get us to sweet, sweet fuel. So, on mile marker 10, heading north on I80, 20 miles south of Carlsbad, New Mexico, sat the truck, mom, Tinga, and me on the side of the road. Well, good thing we have Triple A!! I'm almost certain my parents maintain plus membership status for all my monthly driving blunders and thoughtlessness I've encountered since I turned sweet 16. I have had repeat locksmiths, multiple roadside assistance men fix flats, been towed more than a couple of times, but never have I called for a delivery of gas. And, after today, I am now grateful I've been conscientious about fuel levels. All was going well, Triple A gave us a thirty minute quote to have the wrecker give my car life, but then everything fell to pieces. Apparently Triple A was not accurate in their timing seeing how the wrecker they called to assist us was located in ARIZONA. Which, I do know that New Mexico and Arizona can appear similar, the desert is a common theme to both states, but really, Triple A, there is 343 miles separating that man from us. So, I call requesting that we find something a little closer. After an hour of story time (The Graveyard Book) on the side of the highway, and still hearing no news on aid, I call back and this time find out "whoops, we've now corrected our errors. Someone will be out there in an hour and a half." Excuse me! Really?! After talking to a supervisor and sharing a few of my emotions (bub would have been rather proud, I do believe), I decided to forgo the assistance of Triple A and figure something else out.
In the end, I got in touch with the sheriff's department who sent a deputy out to assist us. I rode in the front seat of a squad car and chatted with Jeff while he took me five miles up the road to the Shell station (leaving mom and Tinga with the truck). According to him the best way out of a ticket is taking responsibility and a twinge of wit. Now ladies, the Tara Bank eyes, a coy smile and a flirtatious voice does nothing on him (yet somehow I find that hard to believe). All in all, we sat for half an hour less than what Triple A had to offer. Take that!! And all the while, Tinga slept through it all.
We're currently in El Paso, Texas where there is nothing to do but visit the plentiful Adult shops/kitten clubs or go to Walmart, where the parking lot looked like Christmas time and the lines inside were no less than a ten minute wait. No thank you, we will go without conditioner.
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