Badoozerville

On Friday, I had a little change in the usual schedule. I went to the airport early and then rented a car and drove and drove and drove...Badoozer has visited me twice, so it really was my turn. The rental was red, sporty and came with two complimentary speeding tickets. Okay, not true. Maybe they would have if there was a lawman around...or anyone around for that matter. You're looking at rush hour and I was driving the speed limit..plus a little more. What does the 9 and the zero mean?

I drove around Badoozer in my little sports car for the weekend, which was nice except when you're stopping at imaginary stop signs in the middle of the road. It's also really bad when your passenger flashes the nice policeman while trying to dazzle him with her wits. I think she was asking directions to the rave while our heads went into auto-bob to Van Halen. The policeman was nice, though. He said something about Badoozer smelling good, needing a phone number and a mumbled about bribe money. I'm just thankful we had bail. Apparently Badoozer only likes firemen.

You can't make this stuff up. Oh, wait. I might have embellished just a skiff.

On another note, when there are three lanes on the road, one is left, one is right and one is the middle. Wouldn't you agree? Well, back up the Chevy Cobalt buddy, because in Mayberry, apparently there is a TURN lane and a right and left lane.

Me: "Which way?"

Badoozer: "You want to be in the left lane"

"COOL! It's like having a human GPS!", I think to myself as I roll into the left lane.

Badoozer: "Where are you going?!! Left lane! Left lane! Left LANE!!"

Traffic starts, I'm confused and I'm now blasting through the intersection apparently going in the opposite direction of our destination. I've driven all over the US, big cities, small towns, highways and byways. I can handle traffic, road rage, even reloading. This town was just a hard nut to crack with their fancy multiple lanes.

Me: "I AM going left!!"

Badoozer: "NOT the turn lane!"

Me: "It is the left lane!"

Badoozer: "That's a turn lane, not a left lane! Where are you going!?"

Apparently she meant the other other left lane. I start to circle the wagons like the whitest ever Chief Joseph as we argue proper lane names. This turns into hysterical laughing and making fun of the people we see along the way. Eventually, we ended up eating really good Italian food.

Two words. Strom. Boli. Three more words. Greek. Sal. Ad. We ate too much and nearly sploded on the way home.

As you can see, there are builders putting together the townhouses next door to her mansion that she likes to call her 'little townhouse'. Seriously, Donald Trump has smaller houses. It's really spacious. Aside from parking angst, I'd love a place like that.

Parking is a problem, though. On any given weekday, they turn her cul-de-sac into a military base gone Olympic obstacle course complete with roofing nails, flatbed trucks and gravel piles. They then proceed by packing exactly 67 vehicles between the start of her drive and the honey bucket you can see in the picture (that's a Terlit, ya'll) I almost jumped into their paving rig and started clearing the way flat but Badoozer pulled a 7 inch knife and negotiated with them. The woman has skills. What can I say?




There was also an incident involving her MAC. May it rest in peace. Pieces?

Driving back kept me from watching the Super Bowl. I did manage to catch a glimpse of Prince singing in the rain at half-time. I'm bothered at the lack of complaint about his head gear. Did anyone else notice he was wearing an Aunt Jemima do-rag? For crying in my breakfast, was he setting his hair because I thought he might whip out a stack of pancakes and start pouring. Purple Rain better be boysenberry.

-Bee likes pancakes