I can now scratch off my checklist of Things I must do before I die:
-Sleep in my car
-Drive to Vegas at 1:30 at night
-Sleep at a truck stop
That’s right I’m living on the edge but mostly rationality abandoned Jennie and I Saturday night as we made plans to go to Vegas after the Band of Annuals show up in SLC. Jennie was like “I’m not even tired” (Though it was only nine PM). And I put forth my usually philosophy that you only live once. However, little convincing was necessary because we had already made up our minds…Viva Las Vegas. Well about the time I got to Fillmore my eyes started to burn and the road began a game of trickery where it danced in various directions and created all sorts of illusions. And I knew right then and there that I could never be a truck driver.
We ended up at the Sands otel (occasionally Motel as the M flickered back into position).
We were greeted by a belligerent couple who had just gotten into a bar fight. One fella about my age was missing his socks and shoes and his toe was a bloody mess. They shared their whole life story with us then offered the other bed for us to sleep in. We kindly refused. And decided that we would sleep a couple hours in the car. We pulled in front of Lori’s old condo and we drifted off to sleep. 15 minutes later I woke up to find my limbs were numb and my breath was visible. We tried to sleep but gave up on the idea entirely. Who knew St. George was so miserably cold at night?! We were back on the road again…
But again the road started to dance in front of my car and I struggled to stay on the path of its two-step. And that is how we ended up at the truck stop outside of Vegas. A quick nap turned into hours and hours of sleep, maybe some of the best sleep of my life.
Well we finally made it to Vegas. And we played and shopped and ate. And it turned into a great day and an even better story.
However I’m still curious, whatever happened to that poor boys socks and shoes?!
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