OK. I admit we should have known better. It's not like we don't have the experiences to learn from. There are like a million. Roderick's just enjoy adventure. Yeah, that's all I got.
We had just connected with the 40 in Barstow and were headed towards Needles. A tiny little town named Ludlow. Sounds quaint, historic and perhaps the only cafe for miles. It would be really fantastic to try it out. We were hungry and needed a short walk. So we pulled in.
Our first clue should have been all the truckers that were filling up both tanks, tummies and fuel. We followed and joined them in the fine dining establishment. We ordered and waited for our culinary journey to begin. The trucker sitting in the booth across from us was utterly engrossed in his roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, salad, roll and soda. He kept burping to keep us apprised of his satisfaction. That would have been minutely acceptable, but the passing of human gas was not. I was turning green.
Our food finally arrived and I tried to keep myself engrossed, heck, it was all I could do to bring my utensils to my mouth. Too many memories, it all tasted the same, it seemed like I had been here before. Horror of horrors. I had, only it was a different tiny town. Forks, Washington. Same tasteless morsels, same pie, same forks.
I ran to the bathroom and then out the door. We couldn't get out of Ludlow fast enough.
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