Just like you don’t have control over who moves in next to you or occupies an adjacent campsite by you, you don’t have a choice in who pulls in next to you when you’re fueling up your RV.
We had a bummer of a night with extremely heavy rains beating down on the roof of the Journey, even though we had a nice quiet spot behind a Cracker Barrel. So much water came down, it somehow found its way into the Journey around a slide seal that we never had a leak in before. To make matters worse, the water dripped onto Marti’s Kindle and drowned it. Dead. Major bummer.
We “paid” for our overnight stay by having breakfast in the Cracker Barrel before we headed out. Suitably filled we got back on the road by 10 am.
I ran the Journey’s fuel tank down much further than I usually do, I like to fuel up when the gauge needle hits 1/2, but I ran it all the way down to just about 1/4. That necessitated a longer than normal visit to the fuel pump at the Flying J we stopped at.
Pulling up at the next fuel pump to us was a truckload of…pigs!
I started gagging, and well as everyone else at nearby pumps. And with my luck, I had to hold the fuel nozzle with my hand to keep the flow of diesel into my tank, the nozzle latch had been removed.
I watched through tear soaked eyes, people at a nearby picnic table outside the store flee into the store. I had to wonder how any person can drive a truck like that. Whatever they pay those drivers, it’s not enough! That smell is enough to gag a maggot…
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, a second truck full of pigs pulled in right behind the first one. I had to really fight to keep down my breakfast.
Finally the tank was full and we headed out to the highway faster than I think we’ve ever done before. Probably faster than a pace car at the Indy 500.
Just another little “joyful” experience in life on the road. I may never eat bacon again…
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