After quarantine surplus trip ranks as adventure

“Wake up sleepy head, this isn’t the Holiday Inn,” I said to Dear Don late on the first morning of his birthday weekend. “I know it isn’t the Holiday Inn,” he replied, “It’s the Bates Motel.”
And so we start our day together. First we would have neighbors over for a night of fun with a big pot of Jambalaya and hours of Chickenfoot Dominoes. It was so much fun, stress free, easy laughter and a relaxing evening was had by all.
Saturday morning would bring rain of course so we settled in and caught up on recorded TV. It too was a relaxing nondescript day. Being quarantined again limits us to mostly one or two visitors at a time and all of our friends and family know the no hugging and handshaking drill.
By Sunday afternoon we were ready for a road trip and Dear Don had made a pretty simple request. He wanted to head out to a store where he might find more military stuff for his ever growing collection. So we headed north on this beautiful day. The two-hour drive was uneventful. We had never been to this town or store before and we were curious as to what we would find. Both the store and town names will remain anonymous so that no one feelings are hurt in the writing of this story.
At one point we had passed a road sign with the name Byhalia on it. For whatever reason I became focused on that name for the remainder of the day. I have no reason for this it was just how my brain was working on this day.
We finally made our destination, parked and walked into the store. Dear Don was nearly drooling and full of excitement for the “find.”
It was a very small store and packed to the gills with items used and new. You had to dig to find anything of value for a collection. I wandered one way and Dear Don another. I was here only because it was a birthday wish and no other reason. But I was being a good sport outwardly only. I kept running into the same man who at 6’6” was nearly a brick wall. I of course always had to retreat and take another path. Dear Don was oblivious.
Finally after nearly an hour of shopping he had accumulated arms full of stuff and we headed to the check out. We were in a long line, there was only one clerk and she was manic, bouncing off the very small space she occupied and talking literally non stop.
The store was not automated and had no cash register, only a receipt book and calculator.
Every single item a customer bought had to be manually written down. This was going to take awhile. After nearly a half an hour it was Dear Don’s turn to check out.
He had worn a cap that day with Roswell (New Mexico) emblazoned on it and the young woman spied the hat and immediately started a diatribe about aliens, the government and conspiracy theories. Given that and the fact that the 6’6” behemoth was now breathing down my neck in some nearly liquid form of alcohol I was about ready to bust wide open.
I handed Dear ole’ Don the items in my hand announced that I had just met my quota for the day and said “Byhalia I am out of here.”
And with that I retreated to the safety of our car. It was another 10 or 15 minutes before Dear Don was able to get back himself. He plopped down in the drivers seat and said, “I didn’t think I was ever going to get away from her.”
We laughed all the way back home and chalked this trip up to another one of our adventures. You never know where you might wind up or who you might meet on any given day. So stay tuned.
(Contact Sherry at swhcsc@wildblue.net)