Anyhoo...today Hick and I had a lunch date with my best ol' ex-teaching buddy Mabel, and her husband. We dined on delicious fare at a cozy kitchen along the interstate. I had the chicken quesadillas. Hick had one of today's specials, half a chicken with two sides. He chose corn and mashed potatoes. Mabel had the other special, a breaded pork sandwich, with broccoli for the side. Her man enjoyed a cheeseburger with fries, and some onion rings that he tried to share, but only Hick partook of. Three of us sipped Diet Cokes, while Mabel had coffee. Guess that shows who was the adult. Oh, and Mabel picked up the tab! Thanks, Mabel! Next one's on me. I meant to take pictures, but was busy catching up on gossip.
The story's not at lunch, though. Or in the tour of Mabel's beautiful palace that Hick was treated to for the first time. It's in what happened AFTER our visit. In a short stop at The Love Station on the way home. That's just a truck stop, people. Don't get your hopes up. It's nothing racy. Just a big roadside convenience store with gas pumps.
Anyhoo...we stopped to pick up a 44 oz Diet Coke for me, and some scratchers from their machine. Hick grabbed a 20 oz Diet Coke for himself. As he stood in line to pay, with me hanging back out of the way of all those truckers in a hurry...a man came up to me. A man holding out a map. Or in my terms: a weirdo.
He was a spry little thing, older than me, bald, bow-legged, wearing jeans and a western-style short-sleeve blue plaid shirt with snaps instead of buttons.
"What's this number?" he asked, pushing the half-folded road map into my personal space.
"Um...I don't know. I don't have on my glasses."
"Me neither! That's the problem."
Hick turned, always
"Where are you trying to go?"
"I just left Memphis earlier today. I'm headed to Minnesota. Am I right about here?"
"No, Bud, you're more like HERE." Hick was spouting off I-55 info to him.
"Oh. I usually don't have any trouble during the day. But I'm having trouble now. I'm looking for Highway 61. I have trouble breathing sometimes. I'm just really tired. I'm trying to find Highway 61."
"Okay. You go on up I-55 North, and hit 270 towards Kansas City, and then 70 towards Kansas City, and then somewhere around Wentzville, you'll see 61."
"Oh. Thank you. Now I go to 70 and then 61?"
Hick repeated his directions (I think these are the ones he gave, but I'm terrible with directions, and I don't drive the interstates anymore.)
All the while, the cashier was ringing up our sodas, and saying the price, and then announcing the amount of change back. I don't think that helped our little weirdo keep his directions straight.
"Now what was that again? I-55 to 70 to 61?"
"No..."
The cashier was bemused. "Do we need to write it down? I can get a pen and paper."
Hick explained a couple more times, and each one, Weirdo messed up the order, or left out a highway as he repeated it back.
"YES! Let's write it down!" I really wanted that little guy to make it where he was going. I'm pretty sure he was driving a semi, but I kind of hope he wasn't.
Cashier got out a pen, and tore off our long receipt (for just two sodas!) and Hick started writing down the directions.
"Good. You made them big enough that I can see them!"
"Yeah. How do you spell Wentzville?"
Cashier must have been her school valedictorian, because she spelled it right out before I had a chance. We left, and Weirdo followed us out the door.
"Thank you so much! I'm just so tired..."
"You're welcome, sir." Hick really is a Good Samaritan.
"Hurry. I want to get out of the parking lot before he starts driving. I'm really glad we're not going his direction."
Hick may be polite, and like to help people...but Val is a realist.
I like to help people, but I'm realistic about it.
ReplyDeleteThat's a good balance. I didn't mind giving that woman a dollar at the gas station chicken store, even though I knew it was going for whiskey.
DeleteHick sounds like a better guy than you've made him out to be!!
ReplyDeleteLike an iceberg, I show you the 10% of Hick that's above the surface. He has a solid base that is not as dramatic to write about.
DeleteThat sounds like it could be a Seinfeld episode.
ReplyDeleteVal as Elaine, George as Hick and Kramer as the truck driver.
I am honored to be considered Elaine, though I question whether you have seen me dance. Hick is definitely a George. The truck driver? Maybe he had a mail truck full of pop bottles to get to Michigan, and was mistakenly headed to the wrong state.
DeleteThe little guy was obviously tired, just think Hick could have invited him over for a nap.
ReplyDeleteDon't put that idea out there in The Universe!
DeleteSorry but I just couldn't pass it up ;)
DeleteHick would probably want to build a napping shed, and trick it out with comfy Goodwill Store bedding, before inviting anyone.
DeleteBUT GET THIS! Today, Hick said, "I'm surprised he didn't have a Garmin. If I'd had my other car, I would have given him my generic one from Walmart. They only cost about $36.00."
You would still be there today explaining how to use the Garmin.
DeleteYes. Unless that guy found his glasses, and Hick learned how to spell. Kind of like catching lightning in a bottle. We would have been there longer than it took me to reply to this comment.
DeleteA guy who can't see well AND he's tired?
ReplyDeleteYeah, you were right to go in another direction and get away from that guy...
He was a package deal!
DeleteCan't figure out why, of all the people in that truck stop who DRIVE for a living, that guy picked ME to ask for directions!
No glasses AND extremely tired? I also hope he isn't/wasn't driving one of those huge semis.
ReplyDeleteI'm hoping. Haven't heard anything on the news about an accident!
DeleteNo doubt the lug nut WAS driving a semi, probably the one that tried to steam roll me. Hick isn't all bad, now is he?
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you're not flat. A semi could totally smash you.
DeleteHick is actually mostly good. In spite of himself. As evidenced above in the reply I just gave Jimmy.
Nooooo, 61 is close to me, do not send me your weirdos, too. I have more than my share already!
ReplyDeleteIt is hard to direst people who have no concept of general direction. I try, but I always end up wondering why I even bother.
Heh, heh. I KNEW he was headed in your direction. People like that probably drive down the road a bit, then stop and start the direction-asking process all over again.
Delete