Last night Sara and I travelled to Portland to drop Kellyclaire off at the airport. Liz was kind enough to let us borrow her car, because the heater on Sara's was busted (which, in freezing cold weather makes for lotsa foggy windows). It was a one-night thing (kinda like Britney Spears and her first husband, except without the drunkenness and marriage stuff) and so we had to come right home. I was expecting to have a spectacular time, because Sarah and I usually do, but this turned out to be quite the adventure.
First, let me start with "Foster Blvd." in South East off I-205. After the drive up and dropping Kellyclaire at the airport, we were feeling the munchies. We decided to exit where there was an Arby's and some other restaurants. I had an eerie feeling from the start, because plenty of the windows on the businesses were barred up and some of the lots had chain-link fencing surrounding them. Don't get me wrong, we weren't in Compton or anything, but the houses were very crackesque and it was dark and stormy which only added to our paranoia. When we arrived at Arbys, at 10:15, we found they had closed. What restaurant closes at 10:00 off the freeway? Lame. Fine, so across the street was a Safeway. Closed. Fred Meyer across the street from that. Closed. Shell station across the street. Closed. I was suddenly in "Dawn of the Dead" and I didn't realize how creepy this all was until we started back to the freeway. Once we merged back onto I-205, I said something to the effect of, "What the hell just happened?" No one knows.
Second, and probably most importantly, it was storming LIKE CRAZY. Rain was coming down in buckets and the visibility was limited to about 5 feet in front of the car. The wind was blowing in every direction and in a Honda Civic, well, let's just say you're the wind's little bitch. The windshield wipers were trying their hardest to combat the barrage of rain, but they had little affect. Add to this drifting semi's, barely visible signs, crazy drivers... it was definately a white-knuckle experience. Liz, I'm glad we were in your car because Sara, hon, no offense but you and I both know that if we were in your car, I wouldn't be typing this right now. We wouldn't have made it out of Foster Boulevard (The window's all fogged up! What's that?! Ahhh! It's got my leg! AHHHHHHHHH!!!!). I digress.
Third, and thankfully lastly, the Brooks exit North of Salem. Okay so there's this crazy truck-stop here complete with small store, Taco Bell, Subway, tacky glass figuerines (Sara, you're getting that pink unicorn for Christmas, sorry to spoil the surprise) and sketchy people (ask me about the Taco Bell employee's joke). Before ordering our yummy Taco Bell, we had to use the potty. I put this up for discussion and encourage my readers to tell me what you would do with the following items found in a dispenser in the men's room: A small glowstick, "Tropical Escape" flavored condom, designer-imposter perfume ("Smells just like CK1!") and a lighter. I know what I would do but I still need to find myself a slutty goat.
Sara is fantastic and I highly enocourage any of you, should you have the opportunity, to take a Grand Adventure with her. I promise you won't be disappointed (unless you suck).
