Highways Any Byways

Talking to a rooster can sometimes be a relief.

Yesterday while traveling on I 16, coming back from painting at Mothers, it occurred to me that the westbound rest area was going to be my only respite between Dublin and home. I wheeled in grabbed a parking spot and started to approach the Citadel like fortress at the top of the hill..
I quickly counted 16 plus steps at the very least and began to think I was in trouble , knowing it was a state facility, there had to be another access and there it was, a ramp, with more switchbacks than a mountain in Tennessee. I was winded when I reached the top but luckily it was non emergent. There was a rather clean cut gentleman pushing a broom around who followed in behind me.

At this point, I have my cane and my open pocket knife in the same hand giving furtive glances over my shoulder as by now, he has attempted to engage me in conversation. I have a strict no talking in the bathroom policy to begin with. As I mentioned we had been painting and I had ceilings with my long arms and the rollers. I have as much paint on me as I got on the ceiling, with my Dickie brand white painting pants, a white Public Works director shirt, a once white Sea Palms bucket hat along with some aged white sneakers.

As I make my way to the sinks to get some of the paint off my glasses, my new friend was explaining the motion detectors on the sinks as well as the hand dryers, proudly pointing out they are a paperless facility. At this point, I nearly double back to the commodes because he finally has my attention. I resist and go on working on the glasses as he describes the timing differences of motion detectors at various facilities, then it happens.

Been painting? I look like a Jackson Pollock canvas.

At this point, having gone well past my limit, I tell him to take his crazy and move it along. He mutters something and leaves. I feel bad for 3 seconds and decide I'm not making a dent on the glasses. I head out the door hear the motion detector spiel start up but instead of seeing him, there is a large rooster between me and the switchbacks.

I watch carefully and figure out this is not a talking chicken and ease my way around him. When I get to the bottom, I realize I haven't checked out the paperless toilet. However, now there is rooster with an attitude and a dude with a broom in between me and that modern miracle.
Oh well maybe next trip

By, George


  1. 2019 is the year of the rooster, and you'll also be pleased to know that a rooster is a sign of good luck. Maybe you should pick up a lotto ticket or something.

  2. The drawback of the blog? No like button to quickly applaud or love button to praise. We must either comment with our inferior prose or lay silent. I say keep writing despite the absence of instant accolades.

    1. I have added 'reactions' to the bottom of each post. Thanks for the suggestion.


Post a Comment