On my way in to St. Paul today, I saw an accident between a car marked "Student Driver," and a Menards truck. Guess who won. I said outloud, "Ohhh...that poor kid." Until I saw that it was actually a grown man--the instructor, perhaps? Either way, how embarassing.
THEN, I pulled into Davanni's (my latest guilty lunch pleasure--their lasagna is to. die. for.), and was almost run down by a Ford F350 with a trailer completely filled with cat-scratch posts, cat houses, and cat jungle-gyms (Apostrophe? Yes? No? I don't think so...). It was a giant, looming, lattice that swayed precariously, made entirely of carpet-covered 2x4's.
I had to laugh that I was almost run down by something so cute, cuddly, and generally not offensive in any way.
Of all the weird things I've ever seen on the highway, my experience the other day, however, takes the cake.
I was on Highway 36, heading home--talking on the phone, of course--when I saw a Port-a-Potty tipped over on the side of the road. My car read that it was 100 degrees outside. Bleck. Enough said.
Then, a couple of miles and a different phone call later, I saw another one. Then another. Finally, almost ten miles later, I saw a truck pulled over with a flat bed loaded up with more Port-a-Potties than I have ever seen in one place outside of the State Fair(probably 15). He had lost 3 before he realized it between Oakdale and North St. Paul. I'd say he was a little over-loaded, and probably kicking his own ass for not planning well enough. (Strong language? Maybe--but how would you feel??)
I do NOT envy that guy. I still think about him sometimes. He always makes whatever is wrong at my job seem a little more bearable.
Potties on the road--
hot and sticky day outside
my job's not so bad...
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