The Hotel California was a Truck Stop
Specificity is the problem, I believe. I requested that my dispatcher send me to California, but I didn’t request to leave, …ever. So, for the last couple of days, Dad and I have stayed in the same parking space at a truck stop in Fontana, California. We were stranded yesterday by strong Santa Ana winds which, according to local reports, had knocked a few semis off of local highways. This was unnerving, since I thought we had dispatched Santa Ana after he had given John Wayne such a hard time at the Alamo. Outside the truck, the palm trees were sideways. Great clouds of dirt were flying by sideways. Debris was sailing through the air sideways. At one point, Dad’s hat took off for San Jose sideways. Garbage cans were charging across the parking lot, sideways. And we were hiking across the parking lot sideways, leaning into the wind while trying to keep body and soul together long enough to make it to the building.
Once inside, we saw that every trucker in our general vicinity had the same idea. And with truckers as the clientele, every sort of character imaginable could be found in one restaurant. A gentleman who looked an awful lot like Festus, from the television show Gun Smoke, sat in the corner. Another fellow, sporting a turban and a jogging suit, sat at table across from ours. There were a couple of biker types with enough chains hanging from them to make poor Jacob Marley from A Christmas Carol look like a rank amateur. Looking around, about the only character missing from the Village People lineup was the guy with the Indian Chief headdress. Outside the restaurant, there is a little food court which serves Pizza, Deli Sandwiches, Taco Bell, but no English. Walking through this area was like walking through the UN, with every language except English being spoken loudly and simultaneously.
It was adjacent to this area that the restrooms could be found in close proximity to each other. Close enough, in fact, for a little confusion. At one point, Dad misread the signs. He’s nothing if not outgoing, and makes friends wherever his path takes him. In this case, his path took him where no man is supposed to have gone before, or after. The lady who was leaving as he was entering was pleasant enough, he tells me. A few minutes later, she pointed Dad out to her husband as the nice man who walked into the ladies room and said hello. He laughed, Dad laughed, and we all lived happily ever after.
As the day wore on, we made several excursions across the windswept parking lot to the main building. The same cast of characters greeted us each time. The guy with the turban certainly got around. When I went to look at the electronics, he was there. When I checked out the supply of DVD’s, he was there as well. He seemed to take an interest in just about everything I took an interest in, only a few seconds earlier. Have you ever had that happen to you in a store before, when it seems everywhere you go, the same person is always standing there blocking your path? Perhaps our lawyers here at Ricochet can explain which subsection of Murphy’s Law addresses this phenomenon.
Today the winds have died down, the temperature is moderate, and the trees are upright again. I’m not sure, but I believe they cleaned off the signs to the restrooms to make them more legible. The coffee was good. Even the Urban Turban got in his truck, which was parked directly behind mine, and departed the premises. Yet here we sit, waiting. I’m thinking optimistically that, because I’ve requested to go north to Palo Alto in order to visit some of Ricochet’s finest, my dispatcher is holding out for a load assignment that will send me in the right direction. In the interim, this has become our Hotel California. “You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.”
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Comments :
Jul '10
Re: The Hotel California was a Truck Stop
And every time I come to Ricochet, there You are.....
Re: The Hotel California was a Truck Stop
But people come to Ricochet precisely to meet our cast of characters, right? That's the main difference,... that and the fact that I shower at least occassionally.
Edited on Feb 3, 2011 at 2:27pmJun '10
Re: The Hotel California was a Truck Stop
Well, Dave, you picked the right time to be in California. This morning it was 15 below zero in Santa Fe. Take some time and enjoy yourself. The southwest ain't fit for man nor beast at the moment.
Edited on Feb 3, 2011 at 3:46pmDec '10
Re: The Hotel California was a Truck Stop
Doldrums. Time to read some old sea faring books on your fancy electric typewriter. Your dad sounds as if he might be able to keep himself entertained.
Re: The Hotel California was a Truck Stop
That comment, CJRun, was the subject of much loud laughter in the truck. Thanks, we needed that.
May '10
Re: The Hotel California was a Truck Stop
Hey Dave, I live 20 minutes from Palo Alto. If you do get up here, I will be happy to spring for lunch, for you and your Dad. Peter's on his own.
Nov '10
Re: The Hotel California was a Truck Stop
Is there a Dave Carter Fanclub?
Re: The Hotel California was a Truck Stop
You mean haven't heard of it? We meet at the behavioral center every Wednesday....
Jul '10
Re: The Hotel California was a Truck Stop
Daniel, you're the only Member I have on my "follow" list and now I see you're in my neck of the woods. We really should meet up sometime. kurtzken21@msn.com