Long Time No Blog

It's amazing how time slips away from you.
It seems like just yesterday I was ranting away about KFC and its disgusting (and surprisingly long-lived) mashed potato/chicken/gravy/cheese/vegetable bowl, and here I am, 4 months later writing the very next post.

I can only imagine the boredom I've inflicted on some of my friends who have not had my blog to look forward to on a regular basis. Maybe the reason I can only imagine it is because this boredom doesn't exist in the real world. Perhaps I could better state this by saying, "I would be quite depressed to think of how few people out there actually realized that I haven't written in four months - special thanks to those of you who have noticed that I haven't written in four months; maybe we can get together and do a nice small-group activity sometime." That, however, would be a much too lengthy explanation for an introductory thought.

Summertime has at last come to us here in Fairborn, OH as well as a brand new Waffle House. That's right friends, right down the road from where I live is a time-tested way of getting food poisoning. I have to admit my severe disappointment when I found out what the new building was. I was intrigued by the intimate size of the building, and in the naivete of my youth, believed that Fairborn might have gained enough class to get a coffee house or even (oh how naive I was) a Starbucks! It was with great hope and anticipation that I saw them finally put a sign on this java-house-to-be, as I was driving along Dayton-Yellow Springs Rd. Alas. Waffle House. I thought I was going to have to pull over from a mixture of sudden rage and gag reflexes. Not only does the Miami Valley have an overabudance of Waffle Houses already, but also I fear this new establishment might attract undesirables to my part of Fairborn. Those of you that know Fairborn are wondering what part of Fairborn is not already undesirable. Up until last week, I could have said, "My part!" However, to quote Jim Knapp, "Fairborn is still Fairborn." Sigh.

Perhaps the only saving grace of this Waffle House is its leading into a funny story that I had almost forgotten about that I will relate to you presently. Actually, it's not a lead-in; it's more of a tie-in. Forgive the error.

The events unfolded the week of March 18, 2006. This was the week after Jim got married, when he was still in Hawaii, and it was my very first week without a roommate. Additionally almost everyone I know was out of town on spring break. While my friends were enjoying the tropical climates of Florida and Hawaii or the stylish city life of Chicago, I was in snowy Fairborn with my old-lady car (actually there actually is an old lady that lives near me that drives the exact same car; one day I accidentally tried to get in her car at Kroger. She kept her car about as clean as mine, and I didn't realize why my key wasn't working until I realized that the coffee cup in her cup-holder was from a different coffee company than the coffee that was in my cup-holder. Crazy huh?)

Anyway, I had been having car problems for a while, and the ugly old thing finally decided to die the week all of my friends were gone. Fortunately it died within walking distance of my apartment on a down-facing slope. When I finally reached Nate, my only friend still in Ohio, we had quite an easy time pushing downhill to a parking lot. It may have even been fun if it hadn't been snowing. My parents (AAA gold crown royalty room members) decided to have the car towed back to someone they trusted in Waverly. The only problem was I would have to ride back from Fairborn to Waverly (grosso modo, 2 hours) with the tow-truck driver. Despite the potential awkwardness of this situation, I coalesced, and decided I would just bring some schoolwork for the ride home.

The Day of the Tow:
10:00 AM. I was packed and ready to go. The truck was supposed to arrive around 10. I watched Seasame Street to pass the time. The company calls to tell me they will be 2 hours late.

12:00 PM. The truck arrives. I walk to meet it wearing my sweater from the Gap and khaki cargo pants, carrying my messenger bag.

12:05 PM. Two large men descend from the tow truck and hitch my car. They invite me to sit in the middle. Sadly, I did not have enough room to do homework, so I was forced to sit between these two strange men, holding my backpack in my lap like a scared old lady would hold onto her purse on a city bus.

12:20 PM. The two men confess that they have not eaten yet. Why didn't they eat before they picked me up? I was pondering this question for a while, and then it became clear when we pulled into the Waffle House: God was punishing me. Into the waffle house walk two large, bearded truckers with beer bellies, Appalachian accents, and Nascar hats, followed by me, an annoyed-looking white guy in a Gap sweater and khaki cargo pants, who was at a complete loss for words. I'm pretty sure the waitresses suspected I was being kidnapped.

1:00 PM.
After a grueling lunch at the Waffle House, we are once again on the road. Not content to ask what happened to my car or discuss the weather, the truckers seemed particulary interested in my sex life. I was amazed how many times in 2 hours that the same person can say "I bet there are lots of wild girls at Wright State, huh?" Sample Conversations:
1.) The weather's gettin' nice huh? Bet the girls are gonna want to party soon. I bet there are lots of wild girls at Wright State."
2.) (After an attempt to change the conversation) So you're a teacher, huh? Lotsa girl teachers. I bet there's a lotta wild girls at Wright State."
3.) (After further attempts to change conversation) So you say your friends aren't like that huh? All girls can go wild. I bet there's lotsa wild girls at Wright State.

Amazing.

Oddly enough, these people never took a hint. I sat between them for 2 hours without ever giving the hint that I was one bit interested in discussing wild girls at Wright State. There was a brief reprieve however when they started talking about the wild girls from Waverly. This is particularly disturbing, however, when you come to find out that these guys were my dad's age, and they date people I graduated with. Euhh.

After two of the longest hours of my life, I finally arrived in Waverly, and never was I so happy to see it.

I think this might be one of those stories where you would actually have to see me in my Gap sweater, cargo pants, and Sketchers, clutching my messenger bag to my chest, sitting between two truckers to appreciate the utter ridiculousness of this story. If only I had a picture of that to post.

Well good night friends; more entertaining stories to come.