anyone can see that the road that I walk on is paved in gold
I swear to God.
If you have not been there then you will not understand. It is confusing. First, you cannot pump your gas in New Jersey. Someone does it for you, but gas is at least ten cents cheaper in New Jersey than in any of the surrounding states. Anywhere else you would pay more to have gas pumped for you, about ten cents on the gallon.
The other thing about New Jersey that drives me crazy is you cannot turn left, ever. You have to make three right turns to get where you want. They have elaborate extra roads for that purpose; the locals call them �jug handles.� I thought I had landed on some strange conservative planet where, �GO RIGHT� is the only option.
Their rest stops do not have bathrooms. A cruelty beyond imagination, it would be better to be like Pennsylvania and just not have any.
CUBA GOODING, JR. JUST CALLED ME! Okay, so, it was not Cuba Gooding, Jr. but for reasons known to no one, Jenny (from the block) is listed as Cuba Gooding Jr. in my cell phone.
The final strangeness of New Jersey is the attractions it lists from the Highway tend not to exist but other delightful ones do. By delightful I may have meant, �they will tell you there is a Mc Donald�s but really it is a Wendy�s.�
I had to stop to eat; it had been at least a half hour since I had eaten last. I wanted Wendy�s but I would have settled for a Mc Donald�s. Finally, after giving up hope that I would run into that lovely red head we all adore I took an exit with a sign for the Big M. I traveled down the road and there was not a Mc Donald�s, there was a Wendy�s. I was thrilled.
However, this Wendy�s was in the middle of a maze like everything you want to get to in New Jersey so it took a lot of fancy driving to get there. The effort to get to this Wendy�s was unlike any effort to feed myself I had undertaken since the great Mc Donald�s Quest on my pilgrimage to the Vatican several Lents ago.
Getting to that Wendy�s was like trying to loose my virginity because I never thought it was going to happen and it involved a girl but since I actually got the Wendy�s it was nothing like loosing my virginity at all.
The coolest part is that since I do not wear my glasses I thought Omarosa was going to take my order but I got closer I realized that it was just your garden variety rude, skinny woman with bad hair. I can deal with ridiculousness from Reality TV Celebrities but not from middle level fast food management. I have done that job; it is not that hard.
That song came on the radio, you know the one, the one you have to get up and dance like an idiot during, you know that shake your ass song. Go for the moon.
I got my food and getting out of Wendy�s was almost as hard as getting in. It was hard because they did not give me a spoon for my Frosty and I decided to eat it anyway. I felt like I would be explaining myself to Ken Star. I notice that people would rather kill you than let you merge. My favorite maneuver is where there are two lanes. You are merging into the right lane and the person, and by person I mean asshole, driving the Ford Expedition in the left lane, decides that he needs to change lanes into the lane you are in trying to pick up speed, and then lean on their horn (which is wimpy for such a big car) because you should have known that after you merged they would, for no logical reason, want to ram their fossil fuel wasting vehicle up your tailpipe. But, I am not bitter or anything.
Okay, I do not have an ending. I am spent.
