Mr. Twistie and I have spent the last two days on a road trip. No, I didn’t announce it. We barely had time for bathroom breaks, let alone meet ‘n’ greets. That’s kind of the thing.
You’d think that over the years we would get wiser about these hellrides. We don’t. Oh, I know it won’t turn out the way Mr. Twistie thinks it will, but I keep being optomistic that he won’t be as egregiously wrong this time.
You see, I am an optimist. Mr. Twistie is a double-edged cockeyed optimist sprayed in l’Eau d’Optisme.
He assumes that we will begin our journey on time. It is to laugh.We have never even once in all the years I’ve known him gotten out the door on time. I would also like to point out that I have been the reason for the late launch on perhaps four or five occasions in all these years. I fully expect Mr. Twistie to be not only late for his own funeral, but late for the post-funeral lunch, as well.
He assumes that figuring out how long it will take to get from point A to point B is a simple matter of dividing the number of miles by the average speed limit posted along the route. This never takes: bathroom breaks, lunch, the need to stretch legs, irresistible shiny things along the way, scary bad traffic, or pumping gas into account. He never, for instance, thinks that the traffic along the 405 might – just might – be a bit slowed down…let alone the sort we ran into on thursday evening when snails and turtles were hurtling by us at comparatively breakneck speed.
He needs regular leg stretching breaks. After a couple of hours driving, he often really does need to get out of the car. He is also utterly unable to resist shiny things like junk shops, antique stores, and oddities along the way. I enjoy these little adventures, certainly, but I can resist when a deadline is looming strongly enough.
So we got where we were going very late. That meant that instead of conducting our business as soon as we got there, we had to wait for the next day. And then we took forever to get out of Dodge…er…LA, and back on the road to our home.
The lateness is irksome, I must admit. You may even have noticed a bit of irk lingering in this description. It’s there.
All the same, having spent two long, ridiculously hot days alone in a car with Mr. Twistie, I can confidently say there’s no place I would rather have spent those days. I may be exhausted and stinky (I found when we got to our hotel that I’d forgotten my deodorant and the hotel gift shop didn’t have my brand), I may have an overwhelming need to spend the next two days mostly on my feet, I may be headed off to crash and burn in my own bed two seconds after I hit the post button on this entry…but I can’t wait to take another road trip with Mr. Twistie.
Why? Because the same optimism that keeps us from getting anywhere on time and keeps slowing us down when we’re already late allows us to see so many surprising and wonderful things along the way. The same assumption that everything will work out often means that even if the trip we have isn’t the trip we planned, I don’t miss the fun of the unexpected.
Besides, I spent those two days with my nose in a book, in between chatting with Mr. Twistie and begging for a bathroom break. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.