The Frazzled

It was quite a trip home.

I mentioned in my last post that we had gone to Mexico and traveled back home from Tulsa via the interstate, with many stops along the way.

Every establishment I graced with my presence shall never see my face again. That’s the way it must be. There might be warrants out for my arrest.

There was one particular store that shall remain nameless, except to say it is named after a specific military rank and an American monetary unit equaling one hundred cents.

There’s no need to drop names and incriminate myself since there’s a high likelihood there is an impending vandalism investigation.

I didn’t fall asleep until after midnight on Sunday. Then we woke up Monday morning in Mexico at 2:28 AM and boarded the plane three hours later.

As I mentioned before, I ingested the medicine on the plane and had no issues until we were on our way home.

The third stop of the trip was at this store we’ll call Major Bill. I waltzed into the store nonchalantly, completely minding my own business — until I couldn’t locate the single-user water closets anywhere.

Why would you not mark that particular room with a bright sign? If I ever have a store, I’m putting a neon flashing light above its entrance for weary travelers.

Which is what I was: a weary traveler.

Besides the fact that I had been awake since 2:30 AM with only two hours of sleep, I had also been expending copious amounts of energy, you know, running to various throne rooms along this stretch of interstate.

I made my way rather stiffly toward the clerk, who was discussing her ex-husband’s new wife’s drama with the lady buying groceries, “Uh, ma’am, is there a restroom here?”

She handed me a 12-inch plastic ruler with a key attached to one end.

After I finished my business, I grabbed the largest water bottle I could find on the way to the front of the store.

I approached the checkout counter, “Howdy there.”

“D’ja find everything okay?” The woman with the ex-husband asked.

I looked at her through half-closed eyes. “Yeah, I just need to get this water. I’ve been up since two o’clock this morning, and I feel like I’ve been awake for hours.”

“Well, it sounds like you have.”

“Yeah, it’s been a day. We’re just trying to get home.” I sighed.

“M-hmm.”

“Does Apple Pay work on this card reader?”

I had left my wallet in the vehicle and didn’t have the energy to walk there and back to the counter again.

“Yeah, it works.”

“You know, sometimes these things say they’ll take Apple Pay, but they won’t.”

I pulled out my phone and held it to the card reader to use the Apple Pay feature.

I couldn’t get it to work. I pulled my phone away and pushed it against the plastic again.

“Well, I don’t think this is gonna work.”

I bent down and squinted at the screen. I couldn’t seem to get my thoughts in order. Why wouldn’t this crazy machine accept my payment?

She just looked at me, puzzled.

I tried to pay several times but couldn’t figure out how to get the reader to do anything.

“Oh my goodness, I sure wish this thing would work. I’m so dehydrated.” I said as I spit cotton flakes toward her.

She still looked at me silently.

“Well, I’ll be an onkeys muncle.” I had reached the end of my expertise with this new world technology. “I left my wallet in the car. I’ll just go get it and see if this thing will accept a card.”

I turned to walk away, but she stopped me.

“Uh, sir, it might work if you’d let me scan the water first.”

I looked down at my right arm as it clutched the water bottle to my side.

Embarrassed doesn’t quite define what I felt at that moment. I had tried to pay for nothing. That’s why the reader didn’t work.

That lady had stood there and looked at this fool as I tried desperately to pay for precisely zero products.

I scrounged around in my brain to find the right words. “Uh, like I said, ma’am, I’ve been up since two o’clock this morning…”

“It’s all right.” She said as she grabbed the bottle and ran it over past the scanner.

“I promise I’m not on drugs. I’m just exhausted.”

Her voice raised an octave like she was talking to a little child, “Awe, well, you have a good day, hon.” She handed me the bottle of water. “Be careful driving home.”

“Thanks. You too.”

When I reached the car, I relayed what had transpired to Charity.

Then, all of a sudden, she didn’t feel safe with me driving anymore.

to the road-trippers (emphasis on trippers),
– Caleb