Coffee and the brown stuff

One of the benefits of working in a place where I meet lots of people is that if I whine on long enough, eventually I will find someone with a solution to whatever the vexation special of the day is. Recently my customers have found me an honest roofer (I will let you know how that works out), an automotive paint sprayer and 320 square feet of scrap corrugated tin (don’t ask).

Last week I was bleating on to all and sundry about how horrid the Kissboty County dirt is and how badly my lawn is faring seeing how it hasn’t rained for about 100 years. I was explaining how I hate to use chemicals and what I really wanted was to add some body to the nasty soil. Well right on cue a nice lady mentioned that she had a donkey (or an ass or a mule, I really don’t know the difference) and a pile of donkey poo. All I had to do was drive over and collect it. Well, as you know, as a result of my shenanigans at the Coffee House I am usually up to my neck in doo doo anyway, so a spot of shoveling wasn’t going to make a difference to my life and we made an appointment. The nice lady offered me directions but I declined as I have a GPS in the truck so I just needed the address.

On the appointed day we set off for what started as a pleasant jaunt through the leafy byways of old Virginny (as no one calls Virginia in these parts). Things were going well until we flashed past a strange looking sign. It was yellow with black dots and just as I said, “I wonder what that means” we rounded a corner and discovered that it meant the pavement was about to end, and we were on gravel. In truth the sign actually meant that the road would turn to gravel, then dirt, then mud and then water. It is not possible to exaggerate the crappiness of this “road”. We drove for miles and miles in four-wheel drive, axle deep in slime and slithering sideways at every turn. Throughout this drama the GPS helpfully reminded me to “turn right in 2 miles, approaching in 30 minutes”, 4 mph top speed.

Now the Virginia legislature (may Allah shrivel their private parts) has decided that Virginia drivers who fail to use a turn signal or other serious offense are going to be fined $2000 and this fine will be used to improve the roads. (As an aside this law does not apply to out of state drivers, so come on in chaps, it’s a free ride). I therefore respectfully suggest that the boys in Richmond start with SR715, or at least put up a sign that says the road will become almost impassable in 5 miles so turn around now while you have room to turn.

Eventually we arrived some 45 minutes late and I confess in a foul mood. I chased the donkey around with the pooper scooper and finally collected a truck load of donkey dump. Needless to say I decided to ditch the GPS and get direction back that did not involve a washed out logging trail.

On the off chance that you may think I have exaggerated this tale I challenge you to drive SR715. To make it really exciting go to your video store first and rent the movie Wrong Turn.