Belvidere Pat, our new BFF who led us by
Plum woe out from
Not only did he git'r done on his first attempt, he went on to level the trailer and unhitch her as well. I offered to pay him for the gas and his time, but he would not accept saying, "if I gave out of gas at your house, wouldn't you do the same for me?" Such a southern gentleman, I thought, but I could've easily paid him with all the money we saved from blowing through tollbooths without paying.
We stabilized Bella, hooked up the electricity, and unpacked the Suburban. It was quite windy, so we elected to not put up Bella's awning.
The sun was setting, and we needed to gas up and git us sum vittles.
|Never squat with your spurs on. -Old Pappy|
Before heading out, we swung by the pavilion and got a look-see of some mighty sweet door prizes our hostesses had wrangled up for a drawing. Feeling guilty about the toll quarters we
We drove into the nearest cow town for some grub and a drink
When we coasted into the campground earlier, we totally missed our welcome sign from our hostesses.
Lights were out early for me and Thelma. We needed ample rest to prepare for a monumental task the following morning. Something we had never done before as Sisters on the Fly. Indeed it was a huge undertaking, but it was high time me and Thelma earned our cooking badge. We would be making breakfast for our Sisters on our never-before-used Coleman burner. We would prepare a hefty skillet of chicken-apple sausage fried up with sweet Vidalia onions and bell peppers. Yep, we was gone stink up the trailer park in good fashion. Folks was gone wake up thinking Jerry's Hotdogs done pulled in and set up camp overnight, it was gone be smellin' so good.
As we were nestled all snug in our sweet little shabby chic bed ensembles, we had
|Terror at the tollbooth|
|Pat: Let's hope this works, and there's nothing major wrong with your truck.|
Thelma: Louise, PRAY!
And y'all thought I had destroyed all admissible evidence, ha.