In my younger days, I zipped around Boston with no problems at all, even durring rush hour. In Providence today, I was being this timid little creature afraid to do anything. "Um...I'm in the left hand lane, I want to turn left... the sign says I'm supposed to turn left... the light is green, okay, I'm going to turn left now...nice slow... ACK! Slam on brakes cause some jerk decide to bomb through the redlight!"
I got lost getting to where I wanted to go. I found a place to park, a gargage that charges those reasonable fees, like 8.00 every five minutes. I got lost on the street. I finally found the street I wanted, I went looking for the shop I wanted... and guess what? They moved!
I ended up going into a Barbershop and looking at a phonebook. Yes, this was a barbershop. It was all male. Two chairs and it smelled like Bay Rum. I haven't smelled bay rum in years. My grandfather used to smell like bay rum after he visited the barbershop. He'd have the barber shave him too. Even though he shaved at home, he said that having the barber shave you was a real treat.
I walked in. One of the barbers was sitting in a chair. The other was cutting a customer's hair. They sorta looked at me like, "Okay...what's this woman doing here? This is guy teritory!" I asked if they had a phone book. They pointed to the waiting area (all two chairs and a table of it) and sure enough, under the ancient Time Magazines there was a phone book. I looked up the address of the place I wanted. I thanked the men for letting me use the phonebook. They both smiled and said, "Anytime, young lady!"
It felt nice being called "young lady." I haven't been called a young lady in years. And, it was nice smelling the bay rum too. I almost wanted to ask them if they had a lollypop for me. When I'd go to the barbershop with my father/brother/grandfather, the barber would always give me a lollypop while I was waiting for one of the family males to get their hair cut. The barbershop my family frequented in Michigan always had the lollypops with the stick that was looped. They used to call them "Safety pops"
Left the Barbershop, wandered around a little more, feeling totally confused and out of place. Ended up asking a gentleman working a parking lot for directions to the street I wanted. He gave me a look like I'd lost my mind.
So, I said again, Uhm...I'm looking for Eddy street?"
He blinks and says, very very slowly... "You're on it."
I found the shop I was looking for and went inside. I found what I came there for. Someday, I'll tell everyone, hell, I'll post pictures even. Cause what I went to pick up were supplies for a craft project I'm working on. Something to do with my hands for those times when I don't smoke. But anyway, back to the store... I found what I came for. or close enough. Ended up buying that and other things just like it, so I won't ever have to go back to Providence again.
Found the parking garage. This wasn't as easy as it sounds, because Providence is chock full o'parking garages. Parking garages and Dunkin' donuts. In my little jaunt around the city today, I don't think I ended up walking more than two miles... I passed at least 5 Dunkin' Donuts and I lost count of the parking garages. My theory on Dunkin' Donuts and Rhode Island is that if you blow up a Dunkin' Donuts, where every peice lands, a new Dunkin' Donuts will form. That's also my theory about Denny's in California.
But, I got in the car...asked for the fastest, easiest way to 95 North. Guy who took my money told me, "Take a right, at the first set of lights take a left. Go straight."
Which I did... And ended up getting lost. Apparently, what he forgot to tell me was that after going straight for a bit, I'd need to turn down a street to get to the highway. And, I didn't see the signs for 95 because there are none. I'm not kidding. You have to take this service road and no where on the road is it marked at any point, that it leads to 95. It's like this big secret of Providence. "Hey, let's make an access road that leads to the major road everyone needs to take to get in and out of Providence and then, we'll make sure it's totally unmarked! Imagine the fun we'll have watching these idiots drive 'round and 'round and never find it!"
I ended up finding this parking lot where I actually could park. It was a building for family services of some type. Rather high security. Walk into the loby and you have to press a button and then, they let you in. You go in and the person manning the desk is behind glass. I guess I looked relatively harmless cause she let me come in. I went up and said, "I am soooo lost!"
She gave me wonderful directions. I took her directions and made it to "Service Road 8." Double checked it again to see if I'd missed the signs saying it was the way to get to route 95. Nope, there are no signs at all. Zip, zero, nada.
Stopped at the dollar store to buy facial scrubs. I just love those disposable washcloth thingies with the soap already in them. My favorite have always been the St. Ives appricot ones. Well, they seem to have disappeared everywhere, except for the dollar store. I bought a case of them. Hey, at a dollar a box, I can't pass up that offer. I just wish they had the actual refil kits for them, so I wasn't stuck with all these little plastic boxes I don't need. Well, at least we can send them off to the recycle area.
Made it home. Decided then I would have a smoke. Didn't have one the entire time in Providence. Pretty proud of that. When I parked I said, "Okay, you can have one now." Then told myself, "Nah, find the store first." Then, after that adventure, I told myself I could have one before I left. Decided "Nah, I'll wait until I'm stopping at the dollar store."
Was sorely tempted to have one when I stopped to get directions, but decided I'd rather just get to familiar teritory. Figured I could wait till the dollar store. Got to the dollar store and said, "Well, Darq, why don't you get your stuff first." Did that. Then figured I could wait till I got home. Did that. Worked out pretty good. Still not having the best of days, but it could be a whole lot worse.
I picked up a bottle of weird soda in the dollar shop. Glass bottle. I forget what it was called, but they claim it's been around since 1903, I thought at first they ment the company, but I'm convinced now that they mean no, that actual bottle of soda. It was bright, kool-aid red. Called something like Fundago or some other dumbass name. I figured it would taste like cherries or something. It actually tasted like... I dunno, but it wasn't cherries. It was vaugly fruity, but not enough to remind me of a particular type of fruit.
But... the weird thing was the after taste. It had an aftertaste that tasted just like blood. I'm not kidding. The inside of my mouth started getting that copper and salt feeling you get whenever you're at the dentist and he's picking away at your gums so you end up spitting out blood in the sink. I actually took a Klenex and checked my mouth to make sure it wasn't bleeding that's how bad it was. Didn't think it was the soda at first, until I noticed the taste of blood got considerably worse a few seconds after every sip.
Decided not to finish the bottle after discovering that fun little fact.