It was time for a road trip. I would have flown, but airfare is extremely expensive when you are spontaneous enough to decide to leave within the next twelve hours. Like me.
Destination Destin. As in Florida. As in twelve hours by road from Dallas. I don't mind long road trips. I haven't decided whether they are better to go at alone or with someone else. Maybe alone. There's nobody sitting a foot away to annoy me.
This was a big decision. I had one sister moving across state lines needing my help and another less than two weeks away from her long-awaited due date. I was being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, I had promised the baby mama that I would be on baby watch until I have to go back to work. On the other I wanted to help my beach-town-home-owning sister and brother-in-law move into their new home. Exciting! Both prospects! I weighed my options and decided that since baby mama wasn't due until the following week, and was an unlikely candidate for early labor, I was headed to the beach.
Traveling from Texas to Florida is interesting. Or entertaining may be a more appropriate word. You've got the hicks of East Texas to get through and from there it just gets worse. Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and then of course, the glorious Florida. I'm not sure how an imaginary state line can erase the possibility of toothless rednecks, but once you get over that Alabama/Florida border it's nothing but golden tans and blue water. Ahhhhhhhhhhh. Sigh.
Getting out of Texas is a little long but since I don't have to stop for gas yet it goes by quickly. And it's pretty familiar since I've driven that road so many times before. I don't have miles and miles of unforeseen highway before me, I have miles and miles of recognized houses and fireworks stands. A breeze to get through.
Louisiana is more tricky. Officially I am a wanted woman there. Normally I would drive the bulk of my trip down the "L" of the state to get onto I10 and head east. But since a little speeding could almost guarantee a trip to the slammer in a VERY country parish, I need it quick and easy. What's an hour more on this trip compared to a night in jail next to a Cajun witch doctor with shrunken heads in her pocket? My point exactly. My warrant is for nothing serious. Back in '03 I was in a big damn hurry to get home (who knows why) and was pulled over for speeding. I take my chances driving through now because back then I had a different car, and a driver's license issued from Massachusetts. Without those two changes you'd find me driving north to Oklahoma and then taking a right to get through Arkansas in order to avoid Louisiana altogether. But I figure the state troopers from Louisiana would have a hard time connecting me and my current Texas license to that ticket. I only have three more years before the statute of limitations on that ticket runs out and I can do whatever I want in Louisiana. I'm almost home free. I'm not gonna lie though. My warrant has put a serious damper on recent trips to Bourbon Street. But before long I can be as crazy as I want with no previous criminal history hanging over my head.
Mississippi was next. I consider Mississippi and Alabama a set of fraternal twins. They have similar inhabitants who love confederate flags and big trucks. You should see the tires on some of these rigs. You might THINK you're at a monster truck rally, but really you're merely following Jim-Bob in his twenty year old Ford heading over to "Trisha's" house to woo her with a date at the local Sonic. I'm not sure why he goes to the trouble. Jim-Bob's muscle tee alone could do the trick.
Now up until Mississippi I had been entertaining myself with cell phone calls to practically every person in my contact list. Actually, mostly just my sisters. But my battery had only one bar left and I had no charger with me. I needed a Wal-Mart. Stat. There's never one too far away in the South. I found one within minutes. Just one quick trip to the electronics department and I was all set. When I got up to the cashier, I found myself face-to-face with an Amish woman. Seriously!
Did you know the Amish are alive and well in Hattiesburg, Mississippi? I didn't. My last run in with the Amish was outside of Scranton, PA five years ago. And even then there was no communication involved other than me craning my neck around trying to get a good shot of them in their horse and carriage. I'm sure they appreciated that. But here I was, looking at a woman in full Amish dress. The cotton bonnet thingy with strings hanging down the sides, the hair in a bun, the old-fashioned dress, and, wait.... was she chewing gum? I was torn between gawking at her and asking her a barrage of questions starting with how in the world she can possibly be working at Wal-Mart. Aren't they not supposed to use electricity or something? It was like trying not to stare at the elephant man. But she was very friendly and I got through it and we wished each other a good day. And when I plugged in my new car cell charger, I felt all kinds of guilt thinking that maybe my purchase had just bought Amish woman a one way ticket to hell. Does it count if she merely takes the money for such a heathen device? So many questions.... so few answers.
I was only in Alabama for about two shakes and finally made it to Florida. Luckily, Destin is just a couple of hours from the Alabama border and with a fully charged cell phone I was able to confirm dinner plans at my favorite restaurant within minutes. Bang bang shrimp, here I come!
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