Maybe the worst road trip of all time

Perhaps I’ll finally write a book if I can just spend enough time in airport restaurants.

In just this setting, Kansas City International, a place called Tequilera (although more like icedtealiera for me), I can pound out the words. And KCI gets extra credit for free internet. So, the flight still a couple hours away, the trip is looking up. But too much of it’s sucked already.

Really, it’s all about one thing, but I’ll get to it.

Thought I wrote a good column from the game:

www.normantranscript.com/sports/local_story_298021519

So that’s always nice.

Even won about 20/hr playing poker at Harrah’s after the game (almost 4 hours).

But the day was already shot.

I backed into somebody ’s car leaving the KCI Fairfield Inn. And not just anybody’s car, but that of the hotel manager. And there are so many things about that. Like maybe only the hotel manager would have parked up against a curb, up against a median within the parking lot, just far enough away from my car for me not to notice anything out of the ordinary, yet right in the line of where I’d back up, just as long as I assumed there would be no car in a place WHERE NO CAR IS SUPPOSED TO BE.

If that’s hard to follow, here’s the point.

Her car was not in a parking space. I looked at the place where it happened like three more times before I checked out and every time my only thought is, WHAT WAS THAT CAR DOING THERE. And still, when one car’s stationary and the other’s moving, you know who’s fault it is.

Mine.

BUT IF I’D PARKED ANYWHERE ELSE OR CHECKED IN AFTER INSTEAD OF BEFORE THE GAME, NONE OF IT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED. GRRRRRR.

So, the object now is to eat the cost of slightly higher premiums (I assume) for the next three years, while staying out of wrecks for another 22 years.

Then, my weekend almost become so much worse.

Driving back to my hotel, about to get on the highway coming back from Harrah’s, I see a Burger King on the far side of the street and I want an Angry Whopper (spicy, very good). So I pass the ramp and look for a place to make a U-turn. Not the next intersection. Maybe the next one. Oops, no U-turn. I know, I’ll turn left into this closed business and come back out and head back to Burger King.

Oh, no.

Police lights.

“What’d I do”

“You turned left where no left turn is posted.”

I told him I turned left because I couldn’t make a U-turn. Apparently, there were two signs.

Eventually, he let me go, but not before saying this.

“I do have one question for you? How much have you been drinking?”

I relished my answer.

“Zero.”

“What, do you not drink at all?”

“I drink occasionally,” I told him, “but not tonight.”

“Well, I don’t smell it on you, but your eyes are bloodshot.”

At that point I offered to get out of the car and walk the line for him.

He asked me what time I got up that morning. I told him 6, to catch a plan, on 3 hours of sleep, which happened to be about 21 hours earlier.

So that was finally that.

What a trip.

At least I enjoyed this lunch I’ve just finished.