Hell of a Guy
You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life - Albert Camus

Saturday, April 08, 2017

A Trip Home…


The Nancy and I are on our way home from a trip to Orlando and her annual conference. This whole thing began on the 31st of March with me dropping Her Majesty off at Baltimore/Washington International so she could catch her flight to Orlando. Having dropped her off, I began the 800-mile drive with all of her conference materials.

My part of the excursion did not begin well as I began driving south on I-95. It was raining cats and dogs and the cats were winning. Traffic in many spots along the way was at a complete standstill allowing me to make it just about 60 miles in the two hours. My original plan had me, after dropping off my wife at 9:30, in Richmond, VA and a lunch date with my two girls. I did not get to Richmond until after 2pm, a trip of 141 miles. With lunch apologetically canceled, I drove on in the pouring rain, hoping to make it to Manning, SC on the first day. About the time I crossed the Virginia border into North Carolina, a miracle occurred, the rain ceased, the skies cleared and the sun appeared. I made it to Manning, SC about 6:30 tired and hungry. It was a long day fighting traffic and exercising my four-letter word vocabulary, but all-in-all not a bad one.

The rest of week went very well, and now we are on our way home, the Nancy in tow with the remainder of her “conference stuff.” We left Orlando Thursday morning, headed north on I-95 and spent the night in Florence, SC and resumed the journey Friday morning.

Now to the meat of this little piece. Driving up 95 on Friday and a little after noon as hunger bugged us, we decided to stop for a bite. We remembered a small café we had enjoyed when passing through Rocky Mount, NC a couple of years ago, so we headed for the Westridge Grill. Now this is not a fine dining establishment, but is provides good, down home grub at reasonable prices and, best of all, some very friendly people.

As I said, we were here a couple of years ago. The owner happened to be behind the bar where we sat. We told him we had visited in the past and kind of fell in love with two of his employees, Miss Jay and David, and couldn’t be in range of the place and stopping for a meal. After telling him this, Nancy noticed one of my “Hell-of-a-Guy” cards tapped to a mirror behind the bar. I had left one there the first time she and I visited. I guess we made a favorable impression while there that time. In any event, that was a first. I always thought of passing out those cards as kind of a joke, never expecting anyone to hold on to them.  It made me feel good, like a celebrity of some sort. Now I can make the rest of the trip with a smile on my face.

And that is all I have to say about that…