In hindsight, we should have photographed the plates groaning with fried breakfast when our chirpy old waitress served us -but all we could think of was to attack them. A happy, mute half an hour of consumption followed. The couple across from us barely made a dent on their biscuits and gravy, which Matt eyed off before it was whisked off by the waitress.
Fully sated, we rolled (on foot)-to the nearby thrift store, to find loads of stuff we can barely live without. One cowboy shirt, denim skirt, tshirt, frying pan, knife, and seven whole dollars later; we left our two new friends at the store with their California recommendations (go to the chocolate factory.) We returned to our motel room to admire our finery then pack them up for the post office to ship to Australia.Watch 7 dollars of stuff turn instantly into 68 dollars!! Still, you can't put a price on memories...
Matt couldn't pass by the bike store and met the keen cyclist who runs it. Paul kindly donated some spare spokes we needed and told Matt of the mountain biking scene in the area. He has developed an annual 'Fears,Tears and Beers' meet (bike racing and home brew get together) and a charity to develop trails in the region. Paul gave Matt some excellent maps for a rest day run and we donated the old large tyre we've been keeping.
While we packed and posted at the post office, a storm brewed outside. We took refuge and interest in the nearby supermarket (the size of an aircraft hangar). Safely back at the motel, Matt took off to run up the closest mountain. I opted for channel surfing in the comfort of this motel room.
The free casino drinks tokens were burning in our pockets, so we hit the bars. The first bar was inconsequential; we used our tokens then felt politely obliged to order a round. Our second barman predicted our vouchers as soon as we arrived, and expressionlessly poured us some margharitas. Having checked the cocktails for alcohol (clear)-we promptly moved on to bar number three... We were out of vouchers but last nights' visit to 'The Jailhouse Casino' convinced us we needed a pre-dinner nightcap there.
In the Jailhouse lounge, we sat eavesdropping a heated debate between the barman and a barfly, about the perils of 'socialised' public healthcare. Barman: compulsory contributions will drive down costs for more equitable care. Barfly: Look at England: they have socialised healthcare and 15% more women die of breast cancer than in this country. Matt and I sat smiling at each other before Matt cracked and introduced himself as Johnny-English to join the debate.
An hour later, we were still sat discussing the merits and perils of national healthcare. An hour and a half later, we had come around to the bar-flys' way of thinking (and not entirely because he was now buying our drinks...) The four of us were enjoying talking politics, gambling, cycling, climate change and many things in between. At one point things got a bit heated and the bartender eased the tension by asking if I'd like another beer... As soon as I agreed to another round for Matt and myself, the barfly declared our drinks were on his tab, then just as quickly the barman responded to the Republican Party Animal; 'well your next wine is on mine'. Shucks; it was like a big boozey group-hug. I would have stayed chatting til the wee hours but Matt was hungry, so we eventually bade the fellahs farewell and retreated to our motel for the dinner we'd bought earlier at the supermarket.
I write this as we watch Burt Reynolds in Smokey and the Bandit on tv, and suspect we'll be asleep very shortly...
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