In Which TDOT makes an enemy of BST
You know, I really enjoy living in the great state of Tennessee. But I gotta tell ya, the Tennessee Department of Transportation (TDOT, for the unwashed) has a bad habit of closing roads, bridges and exit ramps without warning. But never before did it become such a problem, as when they closed the access to the Rest Area on top of Monteagle Mountain this afternoon.
We can add another Hardee's to my list of Hardee's in Tennessee visited: Across from Northgate Mall in Chattanooga, when I stopped to take a whiz in their toilet, and then get an ice water. Well, they wanted to charge for ice water, so I said just give me a large coke.
Little did I know that they served their large cokes in five-gallon trashcans.
The 40 ounces or so of soda only needed the short trip from Chattanooga to Monteagle to complete the tour of my digestive tract. My bladder's the size of a coffee cup, so you can see my problem.
There were no signs. There were no warnings. I just rode along, looking anxiously forward to the time when I might be able to empty my bladder in the relative safety of a rest area urinal. Then, what to my wandering eyes should appear? A big sign right on the ramp to the rest area that said: Rest Area Closed. And they were paving the ramp and the parking lot. There were a few of those orange barrels set up. There was a guy standing in the grass leaning on his rake. With mocking eyes.
I made it to Altamont. Where I peed at an Exxon station.
But I'm driving the folks' truck this week. What if I'd ruined the upholstry?
You know, I really enjoy living in the great state of Tennessee. But I gotta tell ya, the Tennessee Department of Transportation (TDOT, for the unwashed) has a bad habit of closing roads, bridges and exit ramps without warning. But never before did it become such a problem, as when they closed the access to the Rest Area on top of Monteagle Mountain this afternoon.
We can add another Hardee's to my list of Hardee's in Tennessee visited: Across from Northgate Mall in Chattanooga, when I stopped to take a whiz in their toilet, and then get an ice water. Well, they wanted to charge for ice water, so I said just give me a large coke.
Little did I know that they served their large cokes in five-gallon trashcans.
The 40 ounces or so of soda only needed the short trip from Chattanooga to Monteagle to complete the tour of my digestive tract. My bladder's the size of a coffee cup, so you can see my problem.
There were no signs. There were no warnings. I just rode along, looking anxiously forward to the time when I might be able to empty my bladder in the relative safety of a rest area urinal. Then, what to my wandering eyes should appear? A big sign right on the ramp to the rest area that said: Rest Area Closed. And they were paving the ramp and the parking lot. There were a few of those orange barrels set up. There was a guy standing in the grass leaning on his rake. With mocking eyes.
I made it to Altamont. Where I peed at an Exxon station.
But I'm driving the folks' truck this week. What if I'd ruined the upholstry?
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