Post-Apocalyptic Prius & The Valley Of The Donuts
This is how the day started: I took a shower, where everyone called all at once. Within a three minute time span. I had a razorblade to my throat trying to shave when the phone went berserk. Why my first thought was "I could slip, and they wouldn't find me for hours...many quiet hours" I have no idea. Maybe it's a reflex to a phone screaming like a banshee.
But I got it all coordinated; getting the hotel room settled for NDK with the wife. Texts enchanged with Teca, who could not join us due to a last minute dentist appointment before they attempt to give her superpowers start chemo later next month - I promised to bring her back a donut. And obtained Snowhite's address so I know where to install the cameras could pick her up for todays adventure. I picked her up around lunch because her idea of 'reasonable time to awaken' is somewhere near the end of the morning.
Lunch! Chili's, mostly so I could sit since driving + eating never ends well. It's like a red turtle shell inside the car. (background! Snowhite works at Rennfaire, in a clothing shop that sells period dresses, the kind where corsets are involved.) She was explaining to me how helping various women into corsets - especially for the first time - was interesting. I didn't get the impression it was spiritually rewarding, unless you count the fact that many girls in the 14-18 year old range are utterly surprised they have breasts at all and the corset becomes a journey of self discovery... apparently the act of obtaining that intense amount of cleavage we all see at RennFaire involves movement (reach in, lift straight up, squish together IIRC). Women with fake breasts also provide unique corset fitting issues.
Suddenly I'm glad the worst wardrobe decision I've ever encountered was figuring out how many buttons my shirt has while in the dark. (as an FYI - there are always more buttons than buttonholes until you turn on a light. Always.)
While I had a grownup meal of a BBQ Pork sandwich, Em had those mini-hamburgers and a soda, because she is secretly twelve.
And off we went. During the first part of the trip we were able to pinpoint exactly where Germany went wrong prior to World War II. There was a fork in the road, as the Krupp Stahl factory was gearing up to bring Germany out of economic ruin a choice was made: Tin Puppies (because they're fucking cute) or Tanks (not as cute as tin puppies). They chose poorly. Somehow cookies made out of Poland entered the debate.
That's when the Tyrannosaurus Rex attacked. We were alerted to its presence when it ate the sparkly Volvo in the lane next to us.
Several miles of swerving and dodging through traffic at unsafe speeds later we realized that T-Rexes are crafty and nimble. Em had had enough, rolling down the window she flipped up onto the roof and pulled out the rocket launcher. I really don't know where she keeps it either. . . I didn't ask. That was the end of that.
The rest of the trip south was uneventful. Unless you count that incident with Hauptmann Metzger and his unruly band of time-traveling NAZI Velociraptors. Or the part where I tricked Em into thinking Future Car could drive itself by turning on cruise control and not telling her. She got mad at me.
Finally, we made it to the Dunkin Donuts in the Future Car.
I had coffee and donuts, a proper combination. She had milk and a donut, because she is secretly twelve.
After some relaxation we picked up donuts to go, and headed back north.
The drive back was incident free. But we did watch one small little lonesome fluffy white cloud all by itself in the massive wide open blue sky. There it went, charging east ahead of all its big cloud brothers, alone, possibly scared, definitely lost. Wondering just where things in life had gone so horribly wrong to be out here, in the wide blue sky, alone, without a map. Em could relate and gave the cloud encouraging words. It may have cried a little.
We arrived and delivered the donut to Mandi, and chatted for a while on things, like the merits of road trips and how more need to be made. Then we left to go home, but not before Em complained about my parking, like a twelve year old.
donuts+coffee ya'll, one doesn't need a reason to go off and have fun, just a friend to enjoy the ride with.