So I posted earlier that we were heading out, but we just now got out
of Waynesville. Why? We couldn't find the recycling center. We're
conscientious folk, well-versed in recycling. We had more recycling
than garbage, even; tho that's where things went down the tube. If we
had more recycling than would fit in the can provided, we were
responsible for taking it to a center. How hard is that, really?
Well, never underestimate our ability to overcomplicate the simplest
situation. We read that it was near K-Mart. Good, we pass that all the
time! We drove past K-Mart & didn't see it. We stopped at Ingles for
ice & juice boxes, & asked them where it is. "By the K-Mart, you can't
miss it."
We try again, and despite multiple assurances of how easy it is to
find, we miss it. I google map recycle centers, & only get the big
places - not drop offs. I finally call the visitor's center - they
answer questions dumber than this all the time.
In the meantime, the children have once again lost their minds. Bubba
was hollering, and the other 3 in the very back seat were whining and
bitching. Adults were speaking loudly to the children. It was
stressful.
The gentleman that was helping me was very nice, and never once asked
who was being tortured in the background. He gave me directions...of a
sort. You pass the K-Mart, by the way. Like, over a mile past K-Mart.
I relayed the directions to Val-she's driving right now-and I asked
the appropriate questions. Did I mention it was stressful? We were
sitting in the parking lot of a Verizon store by this tine, a huge bag
if recycling plopped in the middle of the van, all desperate to go
home.
He said to "turn left at the 3rd light that's 19." then he put me on
hold for a moment while he asked someone for the street name. The
absurdity of the whole situation crashes down on me at thy precise
moment. The light that's 19? What the ever-loving hell is that
supposed to mean?
I started laughing; silently but VERY hard. It was like laughing in
church - it's funnier sometimes because you're not supposed to do it.
What if the very helpful man comes back on while I'm silently
guffawing?!
Val looked over, & I had one hand clamped over my mouth, the other
holding my phone to my ear, and tears streaming down my face. Then I
snorted; and baby, at that point? All bets are off. Full-fledged
hysterical laughter. Eyes tearing, nose running...the works.
The very nice man came back & once again didn't ask any questions. I
tried not to sound hysterical & thanked him for his help. Turns out he
meant "Turn right at the 3rd light-that is 19 (as in Hwy 19)."
So we found it, waited in a ridiculous line, and finally got rid of
the recycling.
Nearly an hour after we cleared the driveway, we are on our way home.
My tummy hurts from laughing, & my head hurts from the entire process.
I'm gonna nap, maybe.
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