... and I Pressed On

As I lay here in the guest bed at my parents' house, I feel like I should write something to keep everyone posted on what I've been up to, as if I've been gone forever. In fact, I only left P-town around 2:30 this afternoon. Below, you'll find the details of my drive.

I'll get my navigational mishaps out of the way first so we can move on to the better stuff. I tried a new route to bypass Route 20. Anyone who has ever driven on Rte 20 knows it sucks. So I opted to take 90 as soon as possible, even if it cost more in tolls. I estimated about $0.70 more in tolls. I estimated wrong(ly). The tolls were about $4 more, which equates to about a 50% markup. But, it's only money and I didn't get lost, so I didn't sweat it.

Before leaving, I made a pot of coffee which almost fit exactly into my travel mug and thermos. "Shit" you may say to yourself. A pot of coffee for one person for a 6 hour drive, that seems excessive. It was, but I knew that if I ran out I'd be buying coffee no matter how much I had already had, so I brought plenty. Problem 1 - the coffee was weak. This was a blessing in disguise since it allowed me to drink waaaaay more than I should have without the ill effects of overcaffeinating. Problem B - my second half-and-half was bad. Not so bad that it had floaties (which I tested before adding it to a pot of coffee), but after a while it was tasting pretty gnarly.

Needless to say, I hit the first rest stop after Albany for a nice pee. I wanted some food, but didn't like the selection. I pressed on.

As dinner time approached, I decided I should find a place before 5:00 so I didn't have to deal with all of the people. As I neared the next rest area, I noted that it did not have a McD's. I'm not a fast food guy whatsoever (I used to be, and I was also fat) but they have decent chicken salads under the Golden Arches. I decided to wait until the next service area, "how far can it really be?"

Answer - 38 miles. Dammit!

I got my chicken salad, and it was indeed delicious. The dressing was good too, a nice caeser dressing of which I used about half. I pressed on.

Shortly after dinner my stomach started whispering things to me. Naughty things like "Dude, stop at Cinnabon and get one of those huge freaking gooey things" I checked my Map of the NYS Thruway Rest Areas and found that the next stop had Cinnabon. KILLER!

As I neared the rest stop however, the signs led me to believe that there would be no huge freaking gooey things for me - NO CINNABON! I figured if I didn't stop, there would actually be one there and I'd miss it, so I pulled in. Sho-nuff there wasn't. I opted for a muffin at Starbucks.

Let me explain something about my OCD issues. Lately, I prefer to have plenty of ones, fives and tens in my wallet. Twenties I couldn't care less about. I noted that I was running low on small bills, and I knew I was going to need $12 come Exit 50, so I broke a $20 on my $2 muffin. The girl handed me my change - a fist full of bills - which I had to rearrange so that all the bills were in the proper direction. Then I had to organize them in my wallet from $10 to $1 - outside to inside. This of course held up the line and in a panic I literally pounded the last single into my wallet. The Starbucks chick even felt it was necessary to comment on my goings-on, to make sure everyone was aware of my disorder. Plus I'm pretty sure she wanted me. And if I wasn't old enough to be her father (well maybe not, but she couldn't have been more than 18), I would have definitely thought about perhaps considering the off-chance idea of entertaining a suggestion to flirt back. Alas, I'm a pussy and I was already in a fluster. Nope, I retired to the mom-mobile, ate my double chocolate muffin and pressed on.

I got to the folks' house right on time. We sat up for a few hours chatting, at which point I was losing my voice (thank you very much Bare Naked Ladies and Dave Matthews Band and Eminem for making me rock the hell out for 6 solid hours). So here I am writing to my fans.

No longer pressing on,
Old Coot

P.S. I watched someone attempt to parallel park for 10 minutes. The owner of the vehicle in front of her even went out and moved the van up to give her more room, which didn't help. When she finally got her car situated, I got out of my rocking chair, waved and gave her the thumb's up. It was someone visiting the nextdoor neighbors. Score one for Old Coot!