I’ve spent the past few days in Rawlins, Wyoming…work, not pleasure, in case you thought it might be a vacation hotspot.
I was eating a breadstick at lunch and felt a hard crunch—my temporary crown cracked and half stayed glued on, and the other half tumbled around in my mouth. I’ve heard of spitting teeth, but spitting crowns?
Since I only had half a crown, I was limited as to what I could eat for dinner. Since I was in Rawlins, and it is a pretty small place, the choices of where to go were limited. My limits had limits.
Should I go to the Hoot n Howl or the drive-through liquor store? I ended up at the City Market, wandering through the aisles, looking for something to eat. My thoughts meandered along with me: Chocolate milk looks good…Good n Plenty will work if I only chew on one side…side of beef—roast beef, I have a microwave in my hotel room…room for that package of snickerdoodles just waiting for me to grab…grab a fork, roast beef is messy if eaten with my fingers straight from the package…package of plastic forks has way too many for my needs…need only one fork and I don’t want to walk all the way back…back of the store has a deli with individual sporks folded neatly in two parts…part of me wants to give up and eat trail mix for dinner one more time, I still have half a bag…bag the whining, buy the food, hurry and eat so I can go to bed.
Tired and hungry, I climbed out of the car and breathed the fresh air—clean from the afternoon thunder storm. I heard the cry of a seagull and relished the moment of being one with nature…
Nature had become one with me in the form of a bird pooping on my head.
Maybe the cry of the seagull was a warning, “Look out below!”
More likely it was one smart aleck gull gloating at another, “I bet I can crap on that woman’s head from fifty feet!” He won the bet.
Next time I’ll stay inside and eat the trail mix…again.
Turns out I was pooped in more ways than one.