[G2:1258]I feel like this has been the busiest day ever. I avoid using the words "most productive," because I never really know which were the most productive days until I get home and review what I've come back with. It's always likely I've spent an entire 12 hours producing crap.
But instead of recounting what made my day so busy, I'd like to review my dinner for the evening. I stopped at Applebee's earlier, which is usually a fair bet for a decent meal on the road, and ordered myself a chicken-fried chicken. (Where they get a chicken willing to do that to another chicken is beyond me. [swf class="inline" file="rimshot.mp3"]) I also ordered a beer to help me relax. And to help me come up with hilarious, parenthetical jokes.
The waitress returned a few minutes later with two things. The first was my beer in the size of a "Brewtus," a double-size draft I didn't ask for, but that I'm sure she knew I wouldn't send back because what guy would tell an attractive waitress, "Sorry, that's more than I can handle"? Very cunning on her part.
The second was a report that the kitchen was out of gravy. I'm still wondering how a kitchen can be out of gravy — I mean, it's flour and milk — but I opted for the honey-grilled-chicken plate over an argument.
In the end, I think the argument might have been more palatable. My garlic mashed potatoes tasted not of garlic, but slightly of soap, the vegetables reached mediocrity only after a good salting, and the honey-grilled chicken may have been grilled, but it tasted as much like honey as does envelope glue.
So, just to review, I believe on this trip I'm owed, so far, one GPS T-shirt and a compensatory chicken.
As for the rest of the day, it was your typical drive: [g2link:1251]giant plywood babies[/g2link], rivers cursed with untruth, [g2link:1264]frog-shaped boulders[/g2link]. The occasional [g2link:1270]rocketship[/g2link]. All the usual.
The real high point for me, though, was when I pulled off the road outside Wickenburg to get my bearings and accidentally stopped next to a collection of outstanding [g2link:1276]four-foot tiki heads[/g2link]. As I admired them, a man hopped out of a nearby trailer and excitedly introduced himself as their creator. From his appearance, it was evident I had gotten him out of a shower.
I hadn't the room to take a tiki with me, although I was very tempted to toss out some luggage just so I could. Instead, I promised to return on my next trip, a pledge I fully hope to live up to. In the meantime, I'll whore myself out in the hope for a discount by telling you that the artist's name is Richard and that his phone number, should you wish to purchase a big tiki, is (928) 671-2335.
[G2:1250]
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