When I drive around Atlanta, I’m usually semi-lost or pretending I’m ‘exploring’ my new town so I don’t feel so lost… I try not to look lost. It reminds me of riding the train in Washington DC with my shovel girls… KoKo told us that while we’re on the train (for those of us who weren’t used to big city life) we should look ‘bored and tough’ so that’s what I try to do while driving around Atlanta… look bored like… ‘oh, I drive on these interstates all the time… isn’t it just sooo boring’ instead of looking ‘panicked and scared’… ‘Spaghetti Junction? Are you kidding me? How will I ever figure that out?!’ and ‘why is it that when I took this road to get here I was going west, but now that I’m on my way back the signs are telling me to choose either north or south?’ Aaaacccckkk!
Yesterday I was driving around & found a Fresh Market. I drove through a gas station to get there. I know you’re not supposed to do that…but I wasn’t sure if there was another way to get into the plaza. As I drove through I heard a ‘ding-ding’ & felt really bad that I might have notified someone that I was pulling in when I really wasn’t.
After going to the Fresh Market… I picked up Kettle Corn (ever since my sis-in-law mentioned it I had to get some) and a black & white cookie (so there, Jen) & some other miscellaneous snacks… I decided to get gas. I pulled into the gas station & realized that it was Full Service.
Full Service?! Really? Did I just drive into 1975? I haven’t seen a Full Service gas station in forever! And then I started to worry… do you have to tip them? Will they wash my windshield? Will they make fun of my goofy-ass-dirty car? Will they run out to my car singing some sort of ‘car wash’ song?
They didn’t. I found the Self-Service side and got gas myself (quickly because I realized how freakin’ expensive it was)… and then jumped out of my skin when a large *boom* came from inside the garage…something fell. There was no yelling for help or blood splatter so all was good. (I’m a little jumpy these days)
And I had kettle corn.