My life with my husband is a little backwards at times. On one hand he's the typical, main bread winner in the family. On the other, he waits three days to casually mention to me that the "check engine" light has been on in his car for three days. Then I have to take it in to have it checked, haggle with the shop over how much they are going to take from the ol' wallet, and get it fixed. Incidentally, he also drives around for what seems like forever with the "get gas now, stupid" light on that dings at ya every time you turn a corner. Sigh...
So back to yesterday. I had planned on going with my friend to take her very first deer to a taxidermy shop, that is a little ways away. A day trip basically. I had already went with her to take the meat to the butchers to have it processed, so I figured what the heck. I'm not sure why exactly I've been involved in this whole process, but whatever. Oh, and I also tagged along to sneak the dead deer head into my sisters freezer the other day, because ours was too small.
Getting on with the story....I take my husband's car down to the shop. The service advisor dude tells me how much it will cost just to check why the little light came on. "Ouch." Then he tried to talk me into some other stuff. "No thank you." I mentioned to him what I thought it was. Something to do with the transmission (for lengthy reasons). He just politely nodded and made little notes, probably making fun of me. Jokes between him and his little Bic pen.
My friend is coming to pick me up at the garage so we can go get the deer head out of my sisters freezer. Oh and a funny side bar: When we attempted to put it in the freezer in my sis's garage, it wouldn't fit, so we took everything out of her kitchen freezer and replaced it with the dead dear head. Then my sister came home and caught us. She made us put a bungie cord around the handle on the freezer door so she wouldn't forget it was in there and scare the crap out herself one night.
So we got to my sis's house. She was at work and actually locks all her doors, so I had to get the maintenance dude to let us in. The manager okayed it, since she had already talked to my sis and knew how much she wanted to get the head out of her freezer. So then we were on our way.
We got a little distracted getting down there, made a few pit stops. But we eventually found the place, got the head out of the trunk and were headed back home, and got distracted again. We stopped at a A&W. Yum. Normally.
Ok, so it was actually good going down. But this was my downfall: The Coney Dog. Looks good. Tastes good. But combined with the vibrations of the car, not good for my tummy.
About 20 minutes after eating, I casually mention to my friend that pretty soon I was gonna need a restroom. No big deal, next place to probably stop about 15 miles or so. I was very nonchalant. About 3 minutes after that, beads of sweat forming on my brow, I informed her that I needed to stop RIGHT NOW! She glanced over at me and just started cracking up. Apparently the look of anguish on my face combined with the scissor-like shifting of my legs and my sweating brow was enough to bring her to peals of laughter. After braking and speeding up once to piss me off, and me telling her I'm not kidding, (and I think my hand might of been on her throat, but I can't really remember) we came upon a little burg. By then, I felt fine.
Her: "Do you still need to stop?"
Me: " Weird. I feel fine now."
Her: "Are you sure? Because if we get five miles outside of town, and you change your mind, you're going to be screwed."
Me: "Yeah, I'm sure."
Apparently this issue I had with the Coney dog comes in waves, because we were almost outside of town when:
Me: "Uh oh."
Me: "I was wrong. I need to stop. Like NOW!"
Her: "Well, at least we're not quite out side of town yet." This said while laughing her head off.
She pulls over and turns around in a driveway, and we have to get across four lanes of traffic to head back into town. The cars just wouldn't stop. I'm groaning, doubled over, she finally stops laughing for a minute. At this point I was ready to ruin the interior of the rental car we were in.
But of course I knew that she would finally pull through. The friend I know and love showed her true self. Finally.
Her: "Hang on, here we go."
Her: "Whoo hoo!!!!!"
She was like the dream girl version of Mario Andretti. Whipped between a log truck and a very ancient man driving a huge motorhome, and got me to a bathroom faster than I thought possible. At this point she resumed her manic laughter.
The people in the restaurant probably thought I was running from the cops, I ran to the back so fast. Of course, when I emerged after two courtesy flushes by the way, my friend was waiting for me outside the door with a look on her face that was halfway between concern and held back laughter. The laughter won out though, when the air shifted. We ran for the door before we got arrested By Sherriff Barney for some trumped up charge of reckless driving and endangering the airspace of a eating establishment.
When we got back to the car, all we could think about after her race car driver rendition, was how we would've explained the evading the police charge if a cop would've been watching the way she got me to a restroom. "Gee, I'm sorry officer, but my friend was about ready to crap her pants."
The morals of this long, drawn out story?
- The rental Chevy Malibu is a lot faster and handles better than you think.
- Even when your friend laughs at your pain, she still will do whatever she can to make it stop.
- Avoid the Coney Dogs at the A&W in Myrtle Point, Oregon.
- Dead deer heads in your sister's kitchen freezer is still funny, I don't care who ya are.
Incidentally, it was my turn to laugh when about 20 miles from home my friends tummy starting gurgling too.