.home.again.

 

Monday Ms. Rebecca Dharma and I attempted to return home from our adventures in the east - and I don't know that we're allowed to travel together anymore. Setting aside last years misadventures with giant spiders, bleach, food poisoning and hail - which I cannot talk about - the trip home was....amazingly bad.
Traveling on I-70W home, we hit not one but two semi-truck accidents, the second of which got us trapped on the highway for about three hours. Not moving.
At all.
For three hours.
If we'd had a truly spectacular view like this picture by my friend Nathan VanArnsdale, we'd probably not have minded so much.

Instead we got the Piazza Food Delivery Truck.
And harassed by a creepy trucker  who kept coming to visit us.
You know, since all the cars were turned off and everyone had resorted to milling about on the pavement.
And peeing on the side of the road.
And then I decided to hide the food.

 

Fortunately for us we'd just made a pit stop.

Unfortunately if we'd prolonged our stay and gotten lunch at that exit rather than traveling on hoping to find better fare at the next exit we wouldn't have gotten trapped on the highway - they closed it down about five minutes after we got on.

And three hours trapped on the highway with nothing to do but dodge creepy conversations with creepy truckers is enough to make anyone crazy.

For example, the same truck-guy who'd been checking us out before we hit traffic and then proceeded to come and check on us every twenty minutes after everything stopped and died came up to my window where I was trying to distract myself with some video editing and Rebecca was harassing people on Facebook on her phone - leaning in with his ebows on the top of the car and leering through the window:

CreepyGuy: You sure don't clean you're car much do you?

Rebecca: Well I live in the country and it's pretty dusty out there.

CreepyGuy: Are you girls sisters?

Us: No.

CreepyGuy: Do you girls ride horses?

Us: No.

CreepyGuy: Where are you girls headed?

Rebecca: Home to Kansas City.

CreepyGuy: This must not be your car then.

Rebecca; Yes it is.

CreepyGuy: Well you've got Ohio plates...

That went on for awhile.

This is us, slowly going mad.

We were not rescued, and the highway never cleared.
But while we were sitting there all of the cars behind us slowly, one by one, turned around and started driving back down the highway going the wrong direction.
And that is a really great way to escape when the highway has been shut down behind you.

By the time we rerouted ourselves and got back to civilization it was past 6pm and neither of us had really eaten anything substantial since 9 in the morning.

We found food, and dragons. But not in that order.
And sometime later, when we'd left all of Indianpolis hours behind us, I introduced Rebecca to my small obsession with buying Gas Station Bathroom Porn. When I have quarters anyway...

Because when is "Neon Colored Cherry Flavored Body Paint" not hilarious?

But that's a whole other story...