This past weekend I had the pleasure of logging about 13 glorious hours in my car through scenic and rustic Southern Colorado/New Mexico. As exciting as this probably doesn't sound... trust me, it was great. I never cease to be amazed by the random things that happen when I set off on a new little adventure. Good thing these past few days were no exception.
Friday night we made our way to a little all nighter partay. When I hear the words all nighter, naturally my first thought is a 6th grade girls' slumber party, closely followed by a high school lock-in... but this was nothing like it. And thank Baby Jesus for that. We walked in to find a dance floor full of what could possibly have been mistaken for an orgy and I made a bee-line for the ladies room. All graphic images aside, I was in the stall and happened to overhear a girl say to her friend, "Girrrl did you see those crackers in there?" Huh… waitwaitwait, is cracker still legitimately being used? Last time I was called a cracker was by my student coach at basketball camp when I was 13. I had thought she was really cool up until that point, but bitch lost some real cred with that one... until she put me on the All-Star team of course... then I figured I'd give her a second chance. Don't judge. Anyway, being the cracker that I am, I counted to ten before I left the stall. The last thing I needed was to get shoved into a trash can for making a wrong move. Yeah, try explaining something like that to a bunch of people you've just met.
So instead of pulling the Nancy card, we just decided to join in and, well, I'd be lying if I said the two cool white kids on the dance floor didn't make a bit of a spectacle. I'll never admit that Kyle's moves were better than mine because when it comes to dancing, I just refuse to be that humble, but let's just say I learned a few new moves that the Lodo bars might not be ready for. Get over it, Denver.
Fast forward to Sunday afternoon: I packed up my things and hit the back roads of NM. Aaaaand just about 30 miles later, I looked at my fuel gauge and saw the needle hanging out around the E.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
So I think to myself, OK whatever, I'm coming up on a few towns... there’s gotta be a gas station somewhere, right? Town #1: Forgot the name... I blinked at it was gone. Great. Town #2: Grady. Ohhh hey, they have a school and about 12 more houses + lawn chairs than the first "town," but after cruising their 3 streets, I realized there was no effing gas station. Omigodthisisn'thappening. For about .7 seconds I considered calling Kyle to come save me, but my pride/stubbornness took over and I opted for Plan B: a cute little granny mowing her lawn. I knew what I had to do. I circled the block, parked my car and waved at Mowing Granny. Yeah, not sketchy at all Melissa. Once she decided I wasn't going to whip out my 9 and bust a cap... or whatever… she turned off her mower and gave me the once-over. If I wasn’t so desperate, I would have felt moderately violated. She seemed nice enough when I asked her where the nearest gas station was, but of course her answer felt like a huge punchintheface. Of course the closest gas station was over 20 miles away. Oh my life. So I tucked my proverbial tail between my legs and asked if she knew anyone who might have some gas (obvi I’m not stupid… considering she was riding a lawnmower at the moment…) to spare a silly little city girl. So $20 and two gallons of gas later, I thanked Mowing Granny for her generosity and cruised down the road to San Jon. Whoever that lady was, she’s got some seriously good Karma headed her way.
Once I got to San Jon, I filled up my car with gas and grabbed a bag of M&Ms. I needed to eat my feelings. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of pure humiliation when you realize the epic blonde move you’ve just pulled. Noted.
After making it through an immigration check-point with flying colors, passing an unruly amount of minivans and pick-ups (apparently I didn’t get the memo that my car was unacceptable on NM highways), and paying for my gas to a man who had the most unbelievable unibrow I’ve ever seen in my life, I made it home. At least next time I’ll come prepared. Maybe I’ll even rent a minivan for good measure.
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