truck

The trip to the V.A. was a success if you consider getting there and back home safe and sound the criteria.  We are ever so glad that Billy did most of the truck driving.  Then again, Trish and I have not laughed so much since our trip taking Brandon to a fishing tournament that took us to no mans land.

Parking the Truck

We arrived at the V.A. with some time to spare before Billy’s appoint time. Well, that was until we found the parking lot under construction and we silly enough to follow the alternative parking lot location sign. We found the parking garage where the lower level was set aside for parking. It was full and the truck just missed the roof by inches. We headed back to the original parking area and dropped Billy off. Trish was less that enthusiastic about driving the big truck in the dinky parking area. We were planning on circling in the truck until a space opened up. NOT!

There was a man in the isle that informed us that we needed to go to the overflow lot. I swear he talked like he had a wad of chew, gum, and a jaw breaker stuck in his mouth. We tried several times to understand where he was trying to direct us without success. By then the police car four cars behind us started hitting his woop woop siren thing. I finally said sir we are from Nevada is there a street we can maybe find parking on near here? He says “all I can tell you is you need to follow #Focnste to *&*5s street and make &^*&eft. Yas got^76a moves it out*&6 herr WTF!

Trish Drives the Truck

So I told Trish lets just go to the main road we came in on, make a left and we should if nothing else end up at the ocean. There is always parking there and we can call Billy and let him know where we are.  So Trish drove onto the road we came in on and proceeded to whine because she so does not do “city”.

We did end up a bit up above the ocean, parked in the first stall we found and started looking for a restroom. We both had yellow eyes. I asked a gentleman walking his dog, got to 411 on the porti potty location and we headed down a stairway to them.

The Potty Pump Truck

When we were about 50 yards from the lovely blue potties the pumper truck was pulling in. So, know we were not waiting we boogied as fast as we could and we both zipped into the largest one.  I did my thing whew and Trish started to do hers. We could hear and feel the pump truck doing it’s thing.  All of sudden I realized that the potty was shacking from the pumping going on in the adjacent stall. I tried to warn Trish but . .. well the next conversation was how I am an expert at what to do when one has umm P’d their pants LOL.

After a bit of convincing that the jacket hanging around her waste was doing the job we exited the potty only to find the pump truck guy looking right at us. Now you have to get the picture right here. He was holding the long tube that runs to his truck and on its end is a large silver nozzle. He is holding the nozzle like it is a gun in what best can be described as a Rambo stance. Seriously it looked like he was ready to cap us! We pushed past him and as quickly as we could made our way back to where the truck was.  OMG guess he had fun listening to us talking about P’ing our pants!

Now we are back at the truck and at least five long blocks down from the VA and looking up at the hill.

Next post –  an elevating one