Monday, December 6, 2010

Three rubes take a road trip

Ann and Rita and I went to Atlanta to pick up my new dog.  Originally, Bud and I were going, but the schedule got changed so often he got frustrated with the whole thing.  By the time the day for the trip was finally settled upon, and he realized it was actually the day he had suggested and agreed to originally, I was so irritated by his attitude I wouldn't have let him go unless he was the only driver left in the state.  Ann and I had mentioned the trip to her husband, Tim, to see if he might want to come along to help her with the driving (since we all know I can't drive), but he just started muttering things about "Well Philip made the trip down and back" in so many hours ... blah, blah blah.  We decided he wasn't going to be any help and we didn't need him anyway.  We didn't even mess with Rita's husband, Harold.  He couldn't believe we were going to drive for five to six hours one-way to pick up a dog.  So it was going to be the three old dames on the road to Atlanta.


We planned to leave at 6:00 AM on Sunday morning.  We decided it would be easier on all of us if Bud and I spent the night with Tim and Ann, so we could start from her house in the morning.  Rita lives in High Point, fairly close to Ann, so it was no problem to swing by and pick her up.  Saturday morning Bud had to do some work at the McLeansville Wildlife Club, and I had a horrendous headache, so I went back to bed.  At 12:30 PM, just as I had awakened and started to get up, the phone rang.  It was Ann and she wanted to know how hard it was snowing at my house.  I looked out the window and told her I couldn't see any snow.  She was amazed because it was coming down hard and fast at her house.  As we were talking, I watched a flake or two drift down, then a few more, then a bit more, then a noticeable amount more, and by the time I got off the phone, it was snowing pretty seriously outside my window too.  Bud chose exactly that moment to walk through the door.  They had finished the work on the barbecue pits at the perfect time, because they were working outside, and it would be pretty hard to see what they were doing with the way the snow was coming down.  Bud took a shower, and we packed an overnight bag and headed off to High Point, though I'm relatively sure Bud thought I would be returning home with him in the morning.


When we got there, Tim was all negative and nay-saying  -- he said we three women were never gonna get to Atlanta with that snow out there.  I explained to Tim that the snow was supposed to stop by midnight, that it was not snowing south of us, and that unless we had a blizzard, we were going.  I don't think he or Bud believed us.  Harold didn't even believe Rita would be able to get out of bed in time enough for us to leave at 6:00 AM.  However, before they went to bed Saturday night, Tim and Bud checked the weather, the roads, the traffic reports and made sure there were no football games or NASCAR races taking place anywhere between High Point and Atlanta, so we wouldn't have to worry about traffic jams.  I'm sure they were trying to be helpful and considerate, and I appreciate it, but it's not like we've never been in traffic before.  And, how hard could this be?  You get on I-85 and go south until you reach Atlanta.   You get the dog and get back on I-85 and go north until you get back home.  We figured we could do that without a guide, or a GPS, or even a map.


At 5:00 AM the next morning, we were up and drinking coffee.  We left Ann's house a little before 6:00 AM and got to Rita's about five after.  Rita came shuffling out, dressed like an Eskimo, but she was ready to go.  We hit the road.  We had a great ride down to Atlanta.  The roads were fine.  The traffic was light.  We just cruised along like we knew what we were doing, and we got to Atlanta by 11:00 AM.  I called the dog's foster parents, who were meeting us.  They were driving up from the Alabama coast and their drive was approximately the same distance as ours.  I told them we had taken the Chamblee-Tucker Road exit, just north of Atlanta, and we were at a Dairy Queen, where we planned to get lunch and wait for them.  They had just crossed into Georgia, and figured they were about an hour away.


As it turned out, the Dairy Queen was not open for lunch until 11:30 AM, so we set off in search of another place to eat.  We stopped at a number of places, but none of them were open until 11:30 AM or noon on Sunday.  I find this to be very odd.  I know about blue laws and stuff, and I know Atlanta is smack in the Bible Belt, but so is North Carolina and we can get food on Sunday before 11:30 AM.  I was aghast to find Atlanta (a major metropolitan area) more regressive than Greensboro and High Point (two less than teeming municipalities).   We settled for lunch at the Subway, which opened at 9:00 AM because they now serve breakfast.  Following lunch we drove back to the Dairy Queen to wait for my new dog.  After what seemed like an eternity, they pulled up and the three of us ran excitedly toward their car.  I'm sure they were wondering by what or whom they were being invaded.  But we met Georgia my dog, and her foster parents, conducted the business of paying and paperwork, put Georgia in Ann's van and headed back to North Carolina in less than 30 minutes.  The fact that it was below 40º and the wind was whipping around at about 20 mph, had nothing to do with our haste (sure).


And so we were headed home and were feeling pretty smug and self-satisfied about our little adventure, which thus far had been disaster free, unlike the dire predictions of some men we know.  We stopped briefly at a rest area in southern South Carolina and took Georgia out for a walk.  Last year, when the economy of our country was in the pits, many states closed rest areas, in theory to save money.  Virginia had closed almost all of their rest areas along I-85 and so had South Carolina.  But on our last trip to Maryland, we noticed the Virginia rest areas were back in business, and on our trip down to Atlanta we noticed all the South Carolina rest areas were open.  Unfortunately, that can't be said for the state of Georgia.  We didn't see  a single usable rest area from Atlanta to the South Carolina border.


After our brief stop, we were motoring along making great time when Rita decided she needed to call her youngest daughter.  Her daughter had not been feeling well and thought she might have a kidney infection, so she was going to one of the urgent care facilities to see a doctor.  Unfortunately, Rita couldn't find her cell phone.  She looked in her purse, all around the front seat area of the van, in her coat pockets, in every place she could think to look, but alas, no cell phone.  I tried to call Rita's phone from my phone, and I could hear it ringing, but there was no ringing noise audible in the van.  Rita couldn't remember if she had seen her phone since we left Atlanta, and assumed it had dropped from her coat pocket either at the Dairy Queen or at the rest stop in South Carolina.  We debated turning around.  I tried calling again, with the same result.  Rita didn't think we needed to back track just for a cell phone and I said if it was my phone, I wouldn't turn around, so we decided to just go on.  Rita called her oldest daughter and asked her to tell Harold that Rita had lost her phone and have him call to cancel her service.  She borrowed Ann's phone to call her daughter to find out about the kidney infection (which, in fact, is what was wrong with her).  Her daughter said she had tried to call Rita several times, but got no answer, so Rita explained about the missing phone.  Well, okay.  We weren't going to make the trip completely without issues, but the cell phone was something we could all handle.


Then Ann decided to put her window down for just a brief second.  That was fine, except it would not go back up.  She hit the button for up, but nothing happened.  She tried down, and that worked just fine.  However, now the window was more than half-way down and it was not going up.  She tapped the button lightly.  Nothing.   We pulled off the highway, and she opened and slammed her car door.  Nothing.  She smacked the door panel.  Nothing.  It would keep on going down, if that was what we wanted, but it was not going up no matter what.  Well, it was in the very low 40's outside and windy.  Driving up the highway at 70 mph with your driver's side window open makes for a bit of a nippy ride.  Ann turned the heat up full blast but that was really not much help.  Ann put her coat on, then she wrapped her scarf around her neck and over her ears, then she put her hat on, but she was still getting a frozen face.  Rita also had to bundle up to stay warm.  Georgia and I were in the back, and not directly in the flow of the wind, so we stayed reasonably warm.  But we all suffered from the percussion like pressure changes caused by the wind, and the constant noise.  Okay, so now we had a real problem.  Our little adventure was not going to be free from chaos.  The guys would be able to gloat.  But we didn't think we should be held responsible for the window motor going out.  It was just really poor timing.


And, there we were, whizzing up the highway, when Rita pops up holding her cell phone in her hand.  It seems she was sitting on it.  When I wondered out loud why it didn't ring when I called it, Rita's remark was "I'm glad I didn't have it on vibrate."  Okay, that started us. We laughed and giggled for ten minutes.  Then Ann adds to the whole thing by suggesting the ringing was "butt blocked".  Well, we might as well have some fun with it, since we were freezing to death and irritated.  Rita tried to call Harold to tell him she had found her phone, but discovered her service had already been terminated.  Talk about efficiency!  So, I loaned her my phone to call.  Harold was not available, so she got her oldest daughter again and asked her to relay the message.  We knew we were never going to hear the end of how the three of us couldn't even take a simple trip to Atlanta without some disaster, so what the heck.  Before we got home, Rita's service has been reinstated.  I would love to have heard what Harold told the people at Verizon when he called the second time.


We were at my house by 6:15 PM (thank God, any longer and my head would have exploded).  We brought Georgia in the house and introduced her to the other three dogs.  Ann and Rita were anxious to get back to High Point, so they took off almost immediately.  I can't say I blame them.  It was still a 30 minute trip for them, with the window down, the temperature now in the mid-30's and dropping, and the wind beating their brains through their ears.  But, we had done it!.  We went down to Atlanta, got Georgia, and returned all in one day, without major disaster -- SO THERE!  For the record, Georgia did not cause even one second of trouble throughout the entire trip.


I soon went to lie down to try to get over the unbelievable headache.  Bud got on the phone with his brother, but yelled down the hall for me to come get Georgia.  Poor baby, not knowing the rules and being so confused, she had an accident.  Bud wanted me to take Georgia back in the bedroom with me, but he didn't say anything about the other dogs.  So I came out and got Georgia, took her back to our bedroom and closed the door.  Then I tried to rest again.  I occasionally checked the phone to see if Bud was still on it.  Georgia was pacing and panting and scratching on the door because she wanted out.  Once I noticed Bud was finished talking to his brother, I picked up the phone and called his handset from my extension.  No answer.  So I called another handset located in the front of the house.  Still no answer.  But, Bud opened the bedroom door, stuck his head in and said "the phones are going nuts".  I thought I would roll off the bed laughing.  He didn't see the humor in it, since he didn't know the phones had intercom capability, but I found it hysterical.  He let Georgia out, and there were no more incidents.


After a lot of sniffing and a few growls and one episode of bared teeth, Georgia settled right in to the household.  We love her already.  What a sweetheart she is.




You can see Bailey in the background.
Fast asleep after a hard morning playing.



1 comment:

  1. Aww she is so sweet:) What is a road trip with great friends that's uneventful?? I've never had one! Anytime I go on a road trip with good friends we always have something adventurous happen that's what makes them memorable. Glad you three ladies & your new puppy made it safe and didn't get stuck somewhere to freeze to death! I'm also glad Georgia seems to be adjusting to her new surroundings that can sometimes be a challenge.

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