I must preface that I've only been through toll roads with friends, so I'm a little slow on the uptake on the process. Robert and I made sure have to have a bunch of dollar bills, so I thought we were set. Once we got to the toll, it was fast moving with one line that said "Cars with exact change here" and the next line said "Other Vehicles and other methods of payments here," I chose the previous, because I figured it was a machine and it would be faster because I had exactly two dollars. One problemo bucko, I didn't realize change meant actual change. Who in the heck has coins this day and age?! My problem was also exacerbated by my simpleton mind not understanding where the heck the hole was for the money. I finally figured out you put your money in this big funnel thing, but I'm thinking, "How is this hole going to accept my dollar bills? Who counts this money anyways?!" The sweat was pouring from my brow as I try to stuff my dollar bills in the hole at the bottom of the funnel. CRAAAP, that is definitely not working! I looked to my right where the lady at the station next to mine was taking money hoping she'd see my pleading face that I needed HELP. Nope, no luck, and then I turned around to see Robert peeling away in the moving truck. What the expletive am I going to do now?! I contemplated pulling forward, but there didn't seem to be a place to turn around and I just knew a cop would be around to pull me over and send me to jail for not knowing the rules of the toll. I was sure there was no way I was going to have enough change, and at this point a nice long line of cars was forming behind me, and some kind sir had his window down yelling more expletives and honking his horn. I suddenly LOATHED Oklahoma and swore I'd never come back (sorry Pioneer Woman! Love ya!). I then started dumping change from my slot in my car door and I didn't think it would be enough. Then I dug around my console and was throwing penny after penny into the darned hole. AAAAA, it was just enough. I was sure Jesus stretched my pennies like he stretched out the fish and bread to feed the 5,000. Thanks, God!
Once we arrived in Texas, it was time for a potty break. We stopped at a dinky hole in the wall, so we could avoid the craziness of Dallas. Once I entered this bathroom, it took everything in me not to vomit. It could be said with certainty that some male used a certain organ like a garden hose and drenched that room in urine. It stunk to high heavens and there were weird stains all over (gag, gag, gag!). It was one of those classy establishments with with a urinal, toilet, and vending machines all in one room (a 3 for 1 deal, I guess!). I was attempting to use the restroom in a lady-like manner, but there were no blasted seat covers. "For the love of Pete, I WILL NOT sit down on this toilet!" It was just not the kind of restroom you could put your standards of public toilets behind you and just get over it and sit down. Being the resourceful gal I am, I thought, "I got this. I'll just hold a squat and carefully avoid touching the seat. No biggie." Ha, no biggie until I realized after stopping a million times for pee breaks due to my large beverage consumption I didn't have enough reserves for a nice steady stream, so instead I felt pee start dribbling down my leg, and I was squatted too far up to hit the hole. "I AM ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE. I'M ONE OF THOSE DIRTY URINE SMELLING PEOPLE!!!!" I cleaned up, and ran out laughing telling Robert my story. He just rolled his eyes at his crazy wife. (Please tell me I'm not the only lady who in the attempt of avoiding disgusting toilets, has accidentally tinkled down her leg. If I am the only one, then shut up, this was hours into an 18 hour trip!)
Once urine gate 2014 was over, then we hit the road again towards Dallas. I realized we weren't in Missouri anymore! The overpasses towered over our interstate and looked like something from a futuristic movie. "My gosh, things really are bigger in Texas!" The trip began to get a little hairy from here, because of construction on I-35 which meant road barriers were on each side of the road eliminating the shoulders. I think Robert was biting his nails hoping the moving truck didn't bounce of the barriers like a pin ball machine. My heart was racing the entire time, because the speeds were fast and the roads were narrow. At one point driving through Texas, the speed limit got as high as 85! I get it, because Texas is boring and everyone wants to speed on through, but that just doesn't seem safe! Robert kept us powering through the trip, and refused to pay for a hotel, so I was slapping myself and shoving Sour Straws down my throat to stay awake. The later it got, the more emotional I became realizing I was SO far from HOME and that I would rarely ever get to visit my family, friends, and church. It was finally sinking in that I wouldn't get to call Missouri home for at least 3 years. A few tears were shed, and after 18 hours of driving and taking breaks we got to our new house. It was quite the adventure, and I told Robert I will never again drive it. Only flying for this gal!
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