(I've been looking for something for quite some time to kick start my blogging habits. I've also been telling you that I'd tell you about Jason's and my trip for some time now. How about I take a few days to tell you about it? As you know, memory can be a tricky thing. Deceptive, incomplete, altered, romanticized, added to and subtracted from by the distance of days, it can sometimes paint an inaccurate picture. Actually, it always paints an inaccurate picture. I guess this is where the phrase "the truth is in the telling" comes from. Truth isn't "what happened." It's what we remember about what happened and how what happened affected us.
With that said, I'll trust you'll give me leeway. I'll also trust that Jason will fill in any gaps that need to be filled in, or take out substance that needs to be taken out.)
We knew our first and last destinations: Merryville, La. to see our friend Jason Fortenberry and Abilene, Tx. to meet up with Christy before I headed home. Everything in between was improv.
The vehicle: My 1998 Eagle Talon. The intended path: Highway 6 to Bryan/College Station. Highway 190 from B/CS to Merryville. The actual path: Highway 6 to...
Before we get to the "to," I should tell you the first significant story. When we arrived in Hearne, just before Bryan, we decided that then was as good a time as any to eat. We stopped at a hole-in-the-wall diner on the city square. (I think the name had "Lunchbox" in it.) I could tell you any number of things about the lunch experience, my fried porkchops, the free strawberry icebox cake we were given, the friendliness of the patrons (everyone said "hi" when you walked past them.) But only two things are significant: The breasts attached to our waitress.
She had them and knew how to work them. She might as well have been at some other famous eating establishment known for their wings and marketing allusions to boobs. She had taken the class on bending down to show you the menu items, giving you a view from above. She was an "A" student with the seemingly inadvertant "squeeze."
Truth be told, I think she flirted with Jason more than with me. Who can blame her? Because seriously, I think you will all agree (unless your name is Pansy,) Jason is a much better looking guy than I am. Too bad for her Jason has a ring on his finger which caused his eyes to look the other direction. I, however, have no such ring. I just had my morals and a sense of decency, both of which were wearing thin by the end of the meal.
Having been given a show and a good meal (which, as previously mentioned, contained free dessert,) we headed out of Hearne, still on Highway 6. Leaving town we saw something on the side of the road that was a good foreshadowing of the week to come: A guy had parked his motorcycle on the shoulder and was taking a nap, oblivious to the universes zooming past him.
More to come...