Is that you, Sea Bass?

I was hesitant to write this post, because twice on the drive back to Ohio, I left my phone in the car and regretted doing so both times; I missed one necessary photo for the blog, and was nearly deflowered.

When we stopped the first time in Pennsylvania, the rest stop turned out to be an old corporate building that had been converted into a franchise rest stop and gas station, and while I don't feel that most truck stops are the classiest joints off the highway, this was a step or two below; however,when we walked in, there was a sign on the cork board decrying child prostitution. While Lib was going to the restroom, I noticed a sign drawn on a poster-board and colored with marker for "Chinese Massage" where a rather simplistic stereotype of an Asian was massaging a equally simplistic lighter colored man who was lying face down on an implied cushion table while his feet transformed into some rather suggestive white billowing ejecta with the words "Complete Release" flowing out of him. I immediately thought of my blog, but realized I had forgotten my camera in the car and figured I would just have to give up posting it on the blog. It has haunted me for the past few days, so I recreated here, and am impressed that I got it so close.

Not only that, when we left the rest stop, just in case I did decide to take up the sign's offer of a complete release, there was a semi parked across the lot where I could have repented; it had a cross made of yellow utility lights mounted on the trailer and the words, "Mobile Chapel: Transportation for Jesus" painted down the side. They had set up shop, and there was even a door that led into the side of the trailer. I guess someone was tired of being trapped in the bible belt and got his CDL, probably at the same place he got his preacher's certification.




Later, it rained so hard in Ohio that I couldn't see, so we stopped one last time in MacDonald's to pee and snack. I realized I didn't have my phone, but could see no reason that I would need it unless someone held up Micky D's and I had to call the cops. As soon as I got about halfway through my "regular release," in the bathroom, the door opened, and the lights went off. If you stop on a road trip to use the restroom and the lights go out as someone enters, it can only mean one thing.

Naturally, I thought, "This is it. This is really happening" and I got into the alert, defensive position as I finished taking my piss, hoping I wouldn't have to use my kung fu, and by that I means scream like a girl. I listened for the impending approach of work boots on tile and the metallic sound of overalls springing open just before the sound of denim ruffling to the ground, but the the lights flickered and I realized it was only the storm and I had been spared being sodomized for a little while longer. But I still had to find my way out, and it was a large bathroom. You don't exactly walk around with your arms in front of you feeling your way out in the dark unless you want to make friends or end up with a hand full of urinal cake...and that's if your lucky.

If I had my phone to illume the darkness this wouldn't have been an issue, but I gotta tell you how relieved I was when I saw the long thin ray of light outlining the door, and I propped it open a with a "wet floor" sign because the would-be-assailant who had walked in earlier had decided he didn't need lights and continued into the stall to take a dump. I was glad to get back on the road, and I didn't look back.