Smile-breaks
T-shirt saves the day
On the third day of my mis-adventurous roadtrip, I drove down beautiful U.S. 6—ohmigosh! the rock formations! Everywhere! I thanked God for his works of art on our planet. The five-hour drive from Sandy, Utah, to my next stop: Clifton, Colorado, in the Grand Junction area was breathtaking.
I had not one misadventure as I wended my way toward Clifton, merging onto I-70 East after 127 miles on U.S. 6. No locked-in-car keys; no hotels in bad places; no locked entrances. After a good night's sleep, I took a day trip to Glenwood Springs—of which I knew nothing—but I had planned an extra night in Clifton to give me a day of rest in the middle of my roadtrip.
The desk clerk got all excited when I told her where I was going. “Did you know Glenwood Springs was voted “The Most Fun Town in the United States?” I didn't, but now I did, so I set out with great anticipation. I stopped along the way for gas and got a coffee to go. As you probably know, I love drinking coffee as I drive along the highway.
The T-shirt! The T-shirt! You're asking when am I going to tell you about the Crazy Cow T-shirt. Well, now would be a good time. Leaving the gas station, I headed up the road toward Glenwood Springs. Once on the highway, I reached for my plastic coffee cup, lifted it toward my mouth and just before it got there the coffee leaked out of its—cracked—lid all over my red T-shirt and tan shorts.
It drenched me. Luckily the coffee wasn't real hot, but I couldn't go on to the funnest town in the USA wearing a stained, soaking wet T-shirt. Optimist that I am, I knew there would be a solution. Somehow. Problem was, the solution was back at the hotel in my luggage: clean, DRY T--shirts. Not a one in the trunk of my car.
But. . . oh yeah, the gifts! The gifts I bought at the Crazy Cow Café back in Beaver, Utah! They were still in a bag in the trunk. And one of those gifts was the Crazy Cow Café T-shirt I'd so cavalierly purchased for myself. Saved by the cow!
I turned around and drove back to the gas station, parked and took my Crazy Cow T-shirt to the restroom. I took off my coffee-drenched T-shirt, rinsed it thoroughly in the tiny sink and put on my Crazy Cow black V-necked—dry!—T-shirt. Couldn't do anything about the shorts but they were pretty much coffee-colored anyway and thicker material than the T-shirt, so I soldiered on.
Walking by the shops in Glenwood Springs, Colorado, four hundred miles from Beaver, my black Crazy Cow Cafe T-shirt was a hit. Outside a souvenir shop, a fellow and his wife accosted me. Well, they stopped me to ask about my T-shirt. They, too, had been to the Crazy Cow Café and loved it. As we parted ways, the guy told me I was a living commercial for the café, so I spent the rest of my time in Glenwood Springs proudly strutting around in a black T-shirt with a large white silhouette of a crazy cow face occupying most of the back of it.
When I bought it I was unaware of the cow face on the back because I hadn't unfolded it. I had just made sure it was the right size and snatched it up. It wasn't until I put it on in the gas station that the large white silhouette on the black T-shirt appeared before my very eyes.
This misadventure turned out to be a plus. But if you've ever locked your keys in your car, six hundred miles from home, tune in next week to commiserate with me as I—once again—leave my locked car with the keys tucked into my purse, which is of course, lounging lazily on the front seat. See you then!
Next: Mis-Adventures does it again
