Everything in the so-called country is far. It’s far, and ‘just down the road’, or ‘just over/under the bridge’ and ‘if you passed the water tower/gas station/cow in the road, you went too far.’ I considered the area I was in to be the country because of the numerous deer that appeared to be grazing off the side of the freeway, oblivious to the rush hour traffic just yards away from them. Also that country smell of... nothing.
Just clean air and highways spanning six lanes across going in one direction. There were toll booths for what seemed like every few miles and my interaction with actual living, breathing toll operators was limited. I didn’t know proper booth etiquette or that I was supposed to just toss the correct change in and go about my business like the other highway regulars. The 45 (?) freeway had held me captive for almost an hour. I took surface streets and exited to what seemed like the same point EVERY DAMN TIME. I kept ending up with the same tollbooth guy who tried to help me within the few seconds I paused in his lane.
Tollbooth guy: “Which way are you headed?”
Me (rushed): “Tryingotcatchthe41Ithinkheaded toWaukegan???"
Tollbooth guy: “You just missed it – get off ahead and make a left at the second on ramp.”
Me: (tossing the $.80 into the change hopper) “Thank you!”
This happened two more times. I felt as if I was paying him for his friendliness.
Once I clarified that the “left” at the second “ramp” was in actuality an unmarked road,
Just clean air and highways spanning six lanes across going in one direction. There were toll booths for what seemed like every few miles and my interaction with actual living, breathing toll operators was limited. I didn’t know proper booth etiquette or that I was supposed to just toss the correct change in and go about my business like the other highway regulars. The 45 (?) freeway had held me captive for almost an hour. I took surface streets and exited to what seemed like the same point EVERY DAMN TIME. I kept ending up with the same tollbooth guy who tried to help me within the few seconds I paused in his lane.
Tollbooth guy: “Which way are you headed?”
Me (rushed): “Tryingotcatchthe41Ithinkheaded toWaukegan???"
Tollbooth guy: “You just missed it – get off ahead and make a left at the second on ramp.”
Me: (tossing the $.80 into the change hopper) “Thank you!”
This happened two more times. I felt as if I was paying him for his friendliness.
Once I clarified that the “left” at the second “ramp” was in actuality an unmarked road,
I finally headed in the right direction, $2.40 lighter.
I drove for almost an hour. The sun was starting to set which was just what I didn’t want. I had no desire to be stuck on country turf at night in the middle of nowhere. When I exited the main stretch, it was humid and silent on the “street.” The blackened asphalt highway soon turned rough and rocky, then eventually to gravel and at some point, dirt.
The Hertz map was vague at this point. It did not detail the tiny county roads, only the main strip. I could only go East or West – both directions were equally dark and limitless. I picked up my cell phone to call the hotel. The screen was dim. My battery was dying and had only a minute or so of life left in it.
I was stuck in a Stephen King novel.
The crickets chirping outside my car window seemed to be louder to the West, so I made a right. I had no time to battle giant crickets.
I drove for almost an hour. The sun was starting to set which was just what I didn’t want. I had no desire to be stuck on country turf at night in the middle of nowhere. When I exited the main stretch, it was humid and silent on the “street.” The blackened asphalt highway soon turned rough and rocky, then eventually to gravel and at some point, dirt.
The Hertz map was vague at this point. It did not detail the tiny county roads, only the main strip. I could only go East or West – both directions were equally dark and limitless. I picked up my cell phone to call the hotel. The screen was dim. My battery was dying and had only a minute or so of life left in it.
I was stuck in a Stephen King novel.
The crickets chirping outside my car window seemed to be louder to the West, so I made a right. I had no time to battle giant crickets.
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