Sun. Sept. 2, 2012- PA- home:
At 7am I was rudely awoken by a loud noise. I turned over and started smashing the alarm clock, thinking the previous hotel guest had not turned the alarm off, so now I had to. From the bathroom I could hear the noise again and I ran out and yelled “HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?!” to which Brent in a half asleep mindset replied that it was the phone, not the alarm clock.
It turned out that Dunkin’ Donuts did in fact have the pumpkin flavoured coffee on tap! I was overjoyed to find out that I would not have to spend money on a giant bag of it (not that I wouldn’t want to, just too much money to spend on coffee). My joy soon disappeared as I took a sip of what I can only call an ungodly massacre of pumpkin, coffee and a tonne of sugar and too much nutmeg. It was not good, not at all. It took a lot of effort to finish it. Brent was still asleep when I returned so I loaded up an episode of Weeds and ate breakfast, which consisted of a donut.
Driving along the interstate in Pennsylvania, we passed a giant billboard that said “Buckle Up The Next Million Miles” as well as some really gruesome road kill: it had its mouth open and it looked like it was growling. Welcome to NY! We were one state closer to home. We were running low on gas, and I was running low on energy (the refrain of a song was written in my book along the lines of: hungry, hungry Pinka). We stopped at the same service station as we had on our way in on the first day of the trip for more McDonald’s food. For dessert I had a giant, you guessed it, cookie, even though we were still going to stop for ice cream at Muffler Man as recommended on Roadside America. On our way out, I was going to get a Cherry Coke Zero from the vending machine to hold me over. However there was a rather large woman leaning on the machine and it took several “excuse me’s” to get her to move, only the message got to her friend who had to tell her and only then did she move. She was not happy about it, as she shot me a dirty look- for wanting to buy soda from the vending machine she was leaning on.
Roadside America lied. Or we had the wrong address. Or the GPS took us to the right address in the wrong town. Either way, Muffler Man was nowhere to be found. My ice cream dreams were dashed.
In total for the license plate game I got 43 States, including the hard to get Hawaii and Alaska. In addition I had a diplomat, Europe, Puerto Rico and four Canadian provinces.