tales from the road.

strange things happen on roadtrips. sometimes you eat strange things. sometimes you play strange games. sometimes you walk into a gas station wearing no pants.

let me expound.

friday night we drove from san diego to las vegas. the drive was long, and for some reason i decided it would be a good idea not to change out of my swimsuit for the whole ride. i think that brainchild was fueled by lack of sleep and pure laziness, but i digress. we stopped at a rest stop, it was kind of late, and i was feeling a little delirious. everybody jumped out of the car to use the bathroom, and for some reason i thought it would be perfectly acceptable to throw on the shirt i had been wearing that day over my swimsuit and call it good. i threw on some toms for good measure and marched right into that gas station.

wearing no pants.

let's just hold on one moment and pose a question to the audience. have you ever had one of those dreams where you go to school and forget to wear pants? you just roll up in your underwear and it's the most embarrassing moment of your life? i definitely have those dreams... and friday, it happened in real life.
don't ask me why i thought it would be a good idea to walk in there wearing no pants, but really i didn't even connect those dots in my head until i was halfway into the gas station and everybody was giving me the once over. all eyes turned and stared. i felt them from every which way as i made a b-line for the ladies room.

in the bathroom while waiting for a stall, my mom assured the lady washing her hands that i usually didn't dress like this. i gave a weird grin and tried to pull my shirt down to make it look like some teenie bopper short dress or something, but no matter what i did, it still looked like i had simply forgotten to put on pants. no hiding that naked truth.

the best part of this story was it was like a slow moving nightmare. most of the time when you do something semi-embarrassing, it's easy to weasel your way outta there... but when you're not wearing pants and you have to get back from point b back to point a, well, that's a different story. walking back out to that car in my garb was pure slow motion fueled by more stares from barstow locals and travelers.   moral of the story? don't wear your swimsuit on a roadtrip and think other people will understand. or maybe it should be that shirts are not dresses, nor should they be paired with toms. or maybe you just shouldn't let me loose at gas stations past my bedtime.

kind of reminds me of this one time in madrid...

let's just hope these moments don't happen in threes.
happy monday