Delusional Much?

When I recently spoke at a writer’s conference in Arkansas, I made the 5-hour trip by myself. I had never been on a trip that long in my car. I found out that after driving for two hours, my car has a little sign that pops up on the dashboard asking, “Would you like to Take Rest?” I guess there wasn’t room to fit an “a’ in before Take, but there was room to fit a coffee cup over the text.

Of course, I took no photos while driving. I took this photo once I stopped to “Take Rest.”

When the sign first showed up, there was a ding to notify me. Hearing that ding for a second made me fear that my biggest fear had come true—that something had gone wrong with my car. A quick glance at the screen, however, showed me that all was well.

Apparently, the sign hypnotized me because shortly thereafter, I made a stop. I wasn’t totally hypnotized, though, because I did not get a cup of coffee.

Usually, I am an iced tea drinker, but when I go on a trip, I allow myself to drink a Diet Coke. I bought gasoline and a candy bar, then went back on my merry way.

I was once surprised to find out that tea actually has more caffeine than a Diet Coke, at least according to Coca-Cola, Australia:

https://www.coca-colacompany.com/au/news/the-facts-about-caffeine-and-soft-drinks-your-questions-answered#:~:text=People%20are%20often%20surprised%20to,They%27ll%20vary

Still, there is something about Diet Coke that seems like that peps me up, so that’s why I was drinking it on my trip.

Because I wasn’t sure where I was going (although straight down I-40 was the majority of the trip), I concentrated on driving the whole time. Thank goodness for Google Maps. What did we do before that?

The saying on the Oklahoma speed limit sign is open to interpretation. The sign reads, “SPEED LIMIT 75,” then the text below reads, “No tolerance.”

Again, I took no photos while driving.

I know what that means, and maybe I’m delusional, but technically, this sign could also be read to mean there is no tolerance for a speed limit of 75. The Arkansas sign is much clearer. Although I cannot remember the wording exactly, several of the signs say something like, “SPEED LIMIT 75, with the text below, reading, “It’s the law, not a suggestion.”

After the conference ended on Saturday night, I dared myself into a new experience. I went to a restaurant all by myself! I wanted Mexican food, but not fast food. So, I looked up the closest restaurant and drove there, once again relying on Google maps.

I got to cross the beautiful award-winning steel bridge over the Arkansas River (both coming and going to the restaurant).

This picture was from the internet, not taking while I was driving.

https://garverusa.com/news/1/2021/broadway-bridge-honored-with-prize-bridge-award

At the restaurant, the hostess asked me, “How Many?” When I said, “Just me,” she gave me a look of pity, as if I had no friends, family, or frenemies in the entire world. (For the record, I think I have all of those).

What did I care? I was doing something brave, maybe even something that deserved an award. In my mind, I was walking a red carpet, about to receive my International Woman of Courage Award, as well as my Carnegie Hero Award, plus my Medal of Honor. Paparazzi would be snapping my photo, and bystanders would whisper, “You know what she did? She went to a restaurant by herself!”

Admittedly, being brave was easier in a city where I really didn’t know anyone. After I was seated, a man from the restaurant came by with chips and salsa and said, “Do you want these now or when the rest of the party arrives?” I said, “Now, please. I’m here by myself.” He gave me a pity look, too. When the waitress came to take my order, she said, “Are you waiting for somebody?” I told her no, and she gave me the same look of pity.

That was a total of three looks of empathy, or compassion, or sympathy, or whatever it was. Who cares? I’m too busy giving myself awards. My next award for myself will be “Most Delusional.”

The first thing I ordered was some table-side guacamole. The waitress said, “That is a really big order. You won’t be able to eat that all by yourself.” That felt a bit like twisting the knife. Yes, I get it. I’m alone. I know I’m here solo. And I want the guacamole, please.

I also ordered a cheese enchilada dinner. The waitress came back and prepared the guacamole. Yes, the bowl was big and full, definitely enough to share with an entire table, but that had not stopped me.

When my cheese enchilada dinner came, I was disappointed. It wasn’t good. What I really wanted to do was eat the rest of the delicious guacamole instead.

But maybe part of me does care too much about what other people think. The waitress had discouraged me from buying the guacamole because I was alone. Now, because of that discouragement, I was too embarrassed to eat all the guacamole, even though it was the best food on the table, and I could have eaten all the rest.

Apparently, I’m a loser and a loner. I’ll have to give back all the medals.

Sunday, on the five-hour drive back home, I knew exactly where I was going (straight down I-40 again), so I didn’t need to concentrate on the road as much. Of course, I still concentrated on my driving, but I could do other things, too.

I found all kinds of ways to entertain myself. None of the radio stations were coming through clearly, so I made up a song with lyrics that I sang out loud for a while. And that song was fantastic! Unfortunately, I forgot to write it down, so that song is now lost forever. Too bad, because that song was a sure bet for a Grammy Award. Am I delusional much? I think we all know the answer to that.

What can I say? Sometimes, it’s fun to keep my head in the clouds. And yes, I do regret not eating all of the guacamole.