Friday, December 7, 2007
The Accidental Tourist – Part IV - The Dream Is Over
The "Un" Real Texas By Steve Bussiere, humorist
“And in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make” Lennon/McCartney
I ambled into Pappa’s and glanced around. Andy and Bob were seated in their usual spot, and obviously having a great time. They didn’t see me enter, because I have at long last learned something about stealth and the wisdom of keeping a low profile.
“I’m back guys.”
Bob looked up at me and smiled. “It’s about time Steve. We were just getting your picture put on the side of the milk cartons. So how did it go? Did you get hit by lightning yet? Did you win the lottery? Are you taking your medicine and vitamins? Did you ever find Flint, and if you did were there any cute women there?”
“One thing at a time man.” I replied. “The last time we spoke I told you about getting side tracked to Buffalo.”
“Yeah, what happened after that?” Bob asked.
“Well, I got in the wrong lane again.”
“And?????”
“I ended up on the bridge to Canada. Must be my homing instinct or something.”
“So what happened?” questioned Andy. He loves all things relating to history and must have been talking with Bob about the Spanish Inquisition or something, when I arrived.
“Well I didn’t want to go that far north, but you can’t turn around on the bridge once you’ve begun to cross it. So I continued to the tollbooth, and there was an angelic young lady there to take my money. Angelic ladies do stuff like that all the time, but it doesn’t normally happen in a tollbooth. So I flirted with her, paid her and pulled up to the Canadian Customs booth.”
“What happened next?”
“The lady in the booth asked me more bloody questions than you did when I walked in here. Like citizenship, where are you going? How long are you staying? Do you have any guns, bombs, or drugs? Are you a terrorist? … You know, all the standard stuff.”
“What did you tell her Steve?”
“Well, I told her no, to all of the above, but I asked her if anyone had ever admitted to the terrorist question.”
“Not a good move Steve.”
“So then I smiled my innocent smile and asked her if she thought I looked like one of those terrorist guys.” She looked at me for a moment and said “Well, you might. I’ve never met one yet. So you may look like one. You’d be my first.”
“I’ve always wanted to be someone’s first.” I told her
“Yes, but you don’t look mean, or ugly enough.” She said. “Well, not mean enough, anyway. Have a good visit.”
“They have really crappy direction signs on both sides of the border. So continuing on my directionally challenged path, I ended up in the wrong lane again.”
“Where did that take you?” asked Andy.
“Back onto the bridge, and U.S. Customs. The Customs Agent asked me how long I had been in Canada. So I looked at my clock and told him, for about three minutes. I got in the wrong lane. Twice!”
“He must have been impressed, huh?”
“Don’t know. He looked at me. He looked at the Texas plates on my car. Then he shook his head and told me to try it again. So I did, even though I didn’t want to. But you don’t screw with Customs and Immigration, so I turned around at the barrels and made my second coming.”
Andy and Bob both chuckled at me.
“Well anyway, I figured that there was a silver lining to this cloud and I’d at least see the angelic toll bridge chick again. But when I pulled up she had transformed into an ugly old guy with bad teeth. So I just paid the toll, skipped the flirting part and proceeded back to see my Canadian Customs friend. As I pulled up she looked at me and asked all the same damned questions. Well all of them except the terrorist one, so I asked her why she had omitted that one and she told me she knew I was through a few minutes before and that she knew I couldn’t have had enough training in that time to be certified as a terrorist,”
Bob had tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Don’t cry man. It all went well. So, at any rate I visited Canada for long enough to realize that it’s too danged cold for my thin blood and that maybe I really should have gone to Flint, Michigan like I had planned. Always follow your gut instincts.”
“But your roots are up there, aren’t they?” Alton had arrived for the last part of the conversation.
“Yeah, my roots are up there, but my heart is in Texas. I think that I’ve developed root rot, over the years, or something.”
“So then what happened?” Bob asked.
“I went to Flint.”
“Aaah, finally!” said Andy. “Did you win the lottery?”
“Nope. They have a lottery, but not enough thunder and lightning storms to make it a shrewd investment. And to make matters worse, I got there after eight o’clock at night.”
“Why does that make it worse?”
“ Because the city closes at seven-thirty. I couldn’t even find a place to eat at that was still open. So I pulled into a gas station and asked the guy if there were any good looking women in Flint.”
“What are you looking for? Any particular type?” he asked.
“I’m looking for a BMW.” I told him.
He screwed up his face and said, “A BMW? This is a gas station, not a car dealership. And this is a GM town, pal.”
“Not the car, sir. I’m looking for a Beautiful Michigan Woman. Well that and a lightning strike.”
“How long have you been ill buddy? There‘s no such thing as a beautiful Michigan woman. All of them left for Texas years ago. We only have Big Michigan Women now!”
“Then his eyes went kind of weird and he chased me out of the place, cussing in Arabic or something. So I jumped into the car and headed back here.”
“And that’s it, huh?”
“No. It was strange, but when I got in here it got even stranger. I went into the store and started talking with a good looking woman named Andy, but it must be spelled differently than the way you spell yours, cause you don’t look anything like her at all. I told her it was nice to be home in Texas, because the women are so beautiful and sweet here She said she wasn’t from Texas, but she knew she was really cute, …. and humble too.”
“Well where are you from then? “ I asked her.
“I’ve been here for twelve years or so, but I’m originally from Flint, Michigan.” She told me.
“So what did you say to her?”
“I told her that I’ve been in Flint before, and that the guy in the gas station was right.”
“And ????????”
“She smiled at me, turned and walked away. I stood at the cash, dumbfounded, with a big tear rolling down my cheek, as I watched her walk out and get into her BMW.”
“That’s quite the story Steve.” The other Andy said to me.
“Yeah. I suppose it is. So I paid for my stuff and walked out the door to my car as she drove away.”
“In this storm? Are you crazy? There’s thunder and lightning everywhere, man.” Bob tossed in.
“I know. When I got to the car, the guy parked beside me was getting out of his and a bolt of lightning hit the ground and knocked him right off his feet. Stunned the living beejesus out of the guy. It even scared me!”
“Is he okay?” the three of them asked me.
“Yeah. He was just really dazed and shook up. So I helped him get back onto his feet and checked him over. I think he’s going to be just fine.” I smiled as I spoke.
“Why are you smiling Steve? He could have been killed! You both could have been killed!”
I continued smiling. Then I reached into my pocket and pulled out the lottery ticket. “He thanked me for helping him and gave this to me. I think my luck is changing, guys!”
“Why so Steve?”
“He had Michigan plates on his car.”
“I think it’s a sign, or something.”
“And in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make” Lennon/McCartney
I ambled into Pappa’s and glanced around. Andy and Bob were seated in their usual spot, and obviously having a great time. They didn’t see me enter, because I have at long last learned something about stealth and the wisdom of keeping a low profile.
“I’m back guys.”
Bob looked up at me and smiled. “It’s about time Steve. We were just getting your picture put on the side of the milk cartons. So how did it go? Did you get hit by lightning yet? Did you win the lottery? Are you taking your medicine and vitamins? Did you ever find Flint, and if you did were there any cute women there?”
“One thing at a time man.” I replied. “The last time we spoke I told you about getting side tracked to Buffalo.”
“Yeah, what happened after that?” Bob asked.
“Well, I got in the wrong lane again.”
“And?????”
“I ended up on the bridge to Canada. Must be my homing instinct or something.”
“So what happened?” questioned Andy. He loves all things relating to history and must have been talking with Bob about the Spanish Inquisition or something, when I arrived.
“Well I didn’t want to go that far north, but you can’t turn around on the bridge once you’ve begun to cross it. So I continued to the tollbooth, and there was an angelic young lady there to take my money. Angelic ladies do stuff like that all the time, but it doesn’t normally happen in a tollbooth. So I flirted with her, paid her and pulled up to the Canadian Customs booth.”
“What happened next?”
“The lady in the booth asked me more bloody questions than you did when I walked in here. Like citizenship, where are you going? How long are you staying? Do you have any guns, bombs, or drugs? Are you a terrorist? … You know, all the standard stuff.”
“What did you tell her Steve?”
“Well, I told her no, to all of the above, but I asked her if anyone had ever admitted to the terrorist question.”
“Not a good move Steve.”
“So then I smiled my innocent smile and asked her if she thought I looked like one of those terrorist guys.” She looked at me for a moment and said “Well, you might. I’ve never met one yet. So you may look like one. You’d be my first.”
“I’ve always wanted to be someone’s first.” I told her
“Yes, but you don’t look mean, or ugly enough.” She said. “Well, not mean enough, anyway. Have a good visit.”
“They have really crappy direction signs on both sides of the border. So continuing on my directionally challenged path, I ended up in the wrong lane again.”
“Where did that take you?” asked Andy.
“Back onto the bridge, and U.S. Customs. The Customs Agent asked me how long I had been in Canada. So I looked at my clock and told him, for about three minutes. I got in the wrong lane. Twice!”
“He must have been impressed, huh?”
“Don’t know. He looked at me. He looked at the Texas plates on my car. Then he shook his head and told me to try it again. So I did, even though I didn’t want to. But you don’t screw with Customs and Immigration, so I turned around at the barrels and made my second coming.”
Andy and Bob both chuckled at me.
“Well anyway, I figured that there was a silver lining to this cloud and I’d at least see the angelic toll bridge chick again. But when I pulled up she had transformed into an ugly old guy with bad teeth. So I just paid the toll, skipped the flirting part and proceeded back to see my Canadian Customs friend. As I pulled up she looked at me and asked all the same damned questions. Well all of them except the terrorist one, so I asked her why she had omitted that one and she told me she knew I was through a few minutes before and that she knew I couldn’t have had enough training in that time to be certified as a terrorist,”
Bob had tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Don’t cry man. It all went well. So, at any rate I visited Canada for long enough to realize that it’s too danged cold for my thin blood and that maybe I really should have gone to Flint, Michigan like I had planned. Always follow your gut instincts.”
“But your roots are up there, aren’t they?” Alton had arrived for the last part of the conversation.
“Yeah, my roots are up there, but my heart is in Texas. I think that I’ve developed root rot, over the years, or something.”
“So then what happened?” Bob asked.
“I went to Flint.”
“Aaah, finally!” said Andy. “Did you win the lottery?”
“Nope. They have a lottery, but not enough thunder and lightning storms to make it a shrewd investment. And to make matters worse, I got there after eight o’clock at night.”
“Why does that make it worse?”
“ Because the city closes at seven-thirty. I couldn’t even find a place to eat at that was still open. So I pulled into a gas station and asked the guy if there were any good looking women in Flint.”
“What are you looking for? Any particular type?” he asked.
“I’m looking for a BMW.” I told him.
He screwed up his face and said, “A BMW? This is a gas station, not a car dealership. And this is a GM town, pal.”
“Not the car, sir. I’m looking for a Beautiful Michigan Woman. Well that and a lightning strike.”
“How long have you been ill buddy? There‘s no such thing as a beautiful Michigan woman. All of them left for Texas years ago. We only have Big Michigan Women now!”
“Then his eyes went kind of weird and he chased me out of the place, cussing in Arabic or something. So I jumped into the car and headed back here.”
“And that’s it, huh?”
“No. It was strange, but when I got in here it got even stranger. I went into the store and started talking with a good looking woman named Andy, but it must be spelled differently than the way you spell yours, cause you don’t look anything like her at all. I told her it was nice to be home in Texas, because the women are so beautiful and sweet here She said she wasn’t from Texas, but she knew she was really cute, …. and humble too.”
“Well where are you from then? “ I asked her.
“I’ve been here for twelve years or so, but I’m originally from Flint, Michigan.” She told me.
“So what did you say to her?”
“I told her that I’ve been in Flint before, and that the guy in the gas station was right.”
“And ????????”
“She smiled at me, turned and walked away. I stood at the cash, dumbfounded, with a big tear rolling down my cheek, as I watched her walk out and get into her BMW.”
“That’s quite the story Steve.” The other Andy said to me.
“Yeah. I suppose it is. So I paid for my stuff and walked out the door to my car as she drove away.”
“In this storm? Are you crazy? There’s thunder and lightning everywhere, man.” Bob tossed in.
“I know. When I got to the car, the guy parked beside me was getting out of his and a bolt of lightning hit the ground and knocked him right off his feet. Stunned the living beejesus out of the guy. It even scared me!”
“Is he okay?” the three of them asked me.
“Yeah. He was just really dazed and shook up. So I helped him get back onto his feet and checked him over. I think he’s going to be just fine.” I smiled as I spoke.
“Why are you smiling Steve? He could have been killed! You both could have been killed!”
I continued smiling. Then I reached into my pocket and pulled out the lottery ticket. “He thanked me for helping him and gave this to me. I think my luck is changing, guys!”
“Why so Steve?”
“He had Michigan plates on his car.”
“I think it’s a sign, or something.”
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