As you will have read in this post my wife’s family reunion was held just outside of Texarkana, Texas over Memorial Day weekend. As I mentioned in the other post, I was quite upset about going. I don’t like crowds, families, or the outdoors and her reunion is all of those three combined in the worst possible way. I knew that the only way I was going to survive the weekend was to play off of her families weaknesses and poke fun of them at every turn… In my own mind of course. Saying these things out loud would not be a good thing. Of course the occasional picker upper would be needed so I packed a nice bottle of Scotch and a cheap bottle of vodka (depending on the circumstances) among other things that cannot be mentioned on the boards due to legal reasons.
The trip started Friday morning. We (the wife and I) awoke at the crack of God fucking early (7am) and proceeded to get ready. The clothing, toiletries, and my mobile bar were packed and put in the car the night before so all that had to be done was jump in and go. We were planning on getting an oil change right down the street from our apartment, and had made the appointment the week before. We arrived and got our oil changed quickly, and left there around 7:30. We stopped at Crapdonald’s and had a craptacular breakfast. We hit Highway 59 around 8am and started our journey north.
Now for those who don’t know what the difference is between and highway and an interstate highway/freeway/whatever I will explain. Freeways go all the way through with no stoplights. Highways do not. We hit our first slow down of the day about 20 miles outside of Houston; this was the first of 26 reductions in speed varying from 55 to 35 mph from 70mph. I should also explain that spending 6 hours in a car is like a root canal for me. I hate it. Abhor it. Matter of fact I would rather have chopped my own testicles off than spend that much time in a car, but since my wife pretty much has ‘the boys’ in total control I went along with it (although I did complain a little bit).
By 10am I was ready for that Scotch. You see, about 2 hours outside of Houston is a small town by the name of Diboll, Texas. I got a ticket there a long time ago, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. You see, most small towns on major corridors make their money in two ways. First, taxes. Secondly, traffic tickets. Diboll is the traffic ticket capital of Texas. During a big holiday when people are traveling they can rake in tons of cash. Three stoplights later we were back up to speed, but the memory of Diboll PD still etched into my memory from years prior.
Most of the rest of the trip was fairly easy. Slowing down, speeding up, stopping to potty and eat. I did notice a few things during this time, as there is not much to do when you are driving.
[ul]
[li]You know you’re in a small town when you see billboards for fishing lures. I have never seen a billboard in a major city for fishing lures. It just doesn’t happen.[/li][li]It’s very rare to see a bubbly redneck. You know, happily stupid people.[/li][li]Gas stations are a welcome site after 30 miles of trees.[/li][li]Having a good collection of CD’s is invaluable especially when you have a really good trance CD and a small amount of a certain psychotropic substance.[/li][/ul]
So around 3pm we made it to the cabin. The cabin is very nice, and would be even nicer if it was right smak dab in the middle of some major metropolitan area. It is a spacious 1 room 2 story building with a large deck. About an hour after we arrived I laid down for a nap and woke up promptly at 11:30pm missing dinner. I piddled around and spoke with some of the cooler relatives. Only cool people stay up till 11:30, it’s a scientific fact.
The wife and I crashed out about an hour later, and since I had slept a massive amount the day before I woke up very early. My mother and father in law were up and grilled me about my job situation (or lack there of) and generally made me feel like shit. The other relatives awoke throughout the morning and interrupted my reading of John Grishom’s The Runaway Jury (a highly underrated book, btw).
After lunch I spent a majority of the time playing Tony Hawk on the N64 witch belonged to my half nephew in law (confusing? I know). By the time the sun went down the family was in full Christian swing. There were people singing, talking, preaching and generally being… well, Christian I guess. I slipped out to the deck to catch a quick smoke and to see if I could find my wife for a quick walk in the woods (wink wink). That is when the worst thing of the entire trip happened to me. I got cornered by the Missionary In Law sub[/sub]. By the Gods I was trapped and there was no escape.
The questions started. Why are you not a Christian? I have another path to lead. Haven’t you found God? I didn’t know he was lost. Do you want to pray with me for your soul? No. Why not? No. Why are you being difficult? No. (I have this theory that it is very difficult to argue with a person when all they say is ‘No’) By this time she got all pissed off and ran off to spread the horrible rumors of the Blasphemer Heathen that Jennifer married (that is not a joke, I overheard her telling one of the in laws this).
By Sunday I was exhausted both physically and mentally. I wanted to get out of there as early as possible. I gathered up everything, put the sheets into wash and got the wife and I out of there by 9am. As I looked in the rearview mirror I saw my father in law standing on the porch waving at us with a sour look on his face. He was not happy that we left so early.
The trip home was fairly uneventful since we got started with the psychotropic substances early on, and slowed way down in Diboll.
Over all, I think that it was a tolerable weekend, since I slept through most of it. Amazing what we go through for our spouses.