July 13, 2003
My trip out of town went well. On Saturday, July 5, I flew out from Boise, Idaho to Wichita, Kansas to help a friend move from there to here, where he will be living with me until he is able to find a place of his own. While he also wears diapers, and, unlike me, wears them out of need, he is NOT a sexual partner (i.e. neither of us is gay)-- far from it, in fact, as he is mildly handicapped. He's a good friend, more like a brother. We procured a 17-foot U-Haul truck and then proceeded to pack all his stuff and load it into the truck. We thought we might get it all done in one night...boy was this ever an underestimation! I've learned from my own experience that one never realizes how much stuff he really has until he has to move, and this was the case for my friend. It took us the rest of Saturday, all day Sunday and most of Monday to get all of his belongings moved into the truck, which was nearly filled to capacity by the time we were finished late Monday evening. Because of the hot and humid weather we dealt with in Wichita we had to take frequent breaks and avoid overworking ourselves in the stifling heat as neither of us tolerates such conditions very well.
I did all of the driving, some 1,400 miles plus. I was glad the truck could be driven at freeway speeds easily enough (75 mph) in spite of the load and the size of the vehicle, the largest of which I had ever driven. After we left Wichita we headed northbound on I-135 and stopped in Salina for the night. The next day we headed west on I-70 and drove across the plains of Kansas and eastern Colorado. We hit Denver right in the middle of rush hour. Being from a smaller city (Boise) and driving a large moving truck, this proved to be a challenge for and a test of my driving skills, but nonetheless we survived the heavy traffic. We damn near missed the turnoff for I-25 northbound, though, even in spite of being told that this turnoff is an easy one to miss.
Once we were out of the Denver metro area we made our way north, paralleling the Rocky Mountains front, going into Wyoming. Just south of Cheyenne we turned west onto I-80. By this time the sun was going down, and with the sun directly in our faces this was the most difficult part of the drive (more difficult than Denver's traffic). Soon it was dark and we could continue on our way unimpeded. I know Wyoming is a very sparsely populated area, but I had never before driven such a long stretch of interstate highway in which towns worthy of the ink used for printing their names on the map were so few and far between. In many places not even so much as a lone light shining off in the distance to give some semblance of civilization could be seen. Even when driving on the interstate highways here in Idaho there are some signs of life within sight distance of most areas. Word of advice: if you are planning to drive across Wyoming on Interstate 80 be sure to plan your fuel stops wisely, not that we almost ran out of gas, but it could easily happen.
It was about midnight, maybe later, by the time we reached Rock Springs, Wyoming, after having driven across about half the state and about 800 miles since we left Salina. We were ready to stop for the night at this point. Now, I don't travel much and when I do I don't like to take any chances on staying at some seedy motel of questionable cleanliness and other conditions, including the clientele. It took us awhile to find a clean, reputable-looking chain establishment in this isolated burgh of about 18,000 people. Once we found one we thought we'd take a room there. When I went in to check on room availability I stood at the counter waiting for the desk clerk to appear. Sitting in the lobby was a dude with long hair and his slutty, skanky-looking girlfriend. I appreciate the fact that most strangers mind their own business, but this asshole must have either been drunk or was just an asshole anyway. He said, "we'd like to help you but we can't even answer the phone." I was just thinking, "okay, whatever", trying not to pay any attention to this moron. I continued to stand there and wait. A moment later the guy said, "You got a bad attitude or something?" "Excuse me?" I said. Again, he asked me if I had a bad attitude. I had no idea what he was getting at. I was just tired from driving all day and wanted a room for the night and I explained this to him. He then said he was just kidding and told me to relax. At this point the desk clerk came out. She looked just as skanky as the whore in the lobby, like a biker gal. I asked her if there were any double rooms. Very curtly, she asked, "Do you have a reservation?" I was thinking, "What the fuck?!" It didn't seem that a reservation should be necessary at this particular location. I told her I did not. In an equally unfriendly tone as what she had used before, she said, "then no, I don't have any rooms" and proceeded to return to the back room to finish jilling herself off or whatever. I left the motel lobby and returned to the truck. As we left the lot we flipped off the people sitting inside the lobby. I don't know if they saw us, but it was gratifying, nonetheless. We checked one more place in Rock Springs, and while the desk clerk appeared to have at least been raised by actual humans unlike the last one, he also told me, albeit much more politely, that he had no rooms available and added that most of the motels in Rock Springs were booked. Going into Rock Springs, both my friend and I had a funny feeling about the town. It is difficult to describe this feeling, but it just seemed that it was mostly inhabited by deranged people. Perhaps the isolation in which these people live causes them to become this way. At the risk of pissing off someone who may live in Rock Springs, I must say that the town left me and my friend with a very bad impression and we hope to never have to visit this place again. A few miles away is the town of Green River. In many ways it seemed similar to Rock Springs. We had a difficult time locating a motel we felt we could trust. We eventually found a place that was semi-decent. All we needed was a place to rest our weary heads for the night, after all.
Tuesday morning we continued our way through the remainder of Wyoming and crossed the border into Idaho. We had a ways to go still, but once I was back in my home state I felt that I was almost home. We had departed from the interstate and were cutting through the mountains to connect with I-15 and head into Pocatello. From Pocatello we went west and drove along the Snake River plain and reached Boise at about 5:30 in the middle of its rush hour traffic. While not as heavy of traffic as Denver's, it was still slow going with bumper-to-bumper traffic and driving a 17-foot truck. A few minutes later we finally reached our destination and settled down to rest.
One of the first things I did, of course, was to sign onto the Internet and check the emails that piled up while I was gone. I had over 60 emails after deleting all the spam and virus shit. As expected, some people asked me why the site was not updated, even though I clearly indicated that the site would not be updated in the MOTW. A few others were stories and several were survey responses and guestbook entry notifications.
While the trip was a lot of fun, driving nearly halfway across the United
States, it is something I hope I won't have to do again for awhile.
This is not the first offense Yahoo has personally committed against me. Back when
Geocities was an independent entity I had my web site set up with them. When
Yahoo's greedy corporate-minded slimebag bastards decided to gobble up yet another
part of the Internet and take over Geocities, their heavy-handed and needlessly
overly restrictive policies set in place resulted in the closure of my site.
Since then Yahoo has always represented a long and wide swath of shit stained
deeply and indelibly into the fabric of the Internet. They seem to be bent on
taking over the Internet as a whole and regulating its content. I hope this
will never happen. I use Google for all my searches and I use AOL IM for instant
messenging. Fuck Yahoo and the horse they rode in on. May its founder burn in
hell.
A Big, Hearty "FUCK YOU!!!" to Yahoo
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