Gap in the Space-Time Continuum

Yesterday (August 1) morning we got an early start from Atlanta. We were optimistically hoping that we would have some down time in Washington, as we left ATL earlier than we normally would for a 7:30 P.M. game, which is the latest start time we’ve seen yet. We had been assured by various sources, both living and electronic, that it would only take about 8 hours to reach Washington, D.C. We began our trip in our usual positions: Suz, the designated country driver, started out behind the wheel and MB tried to catch a few extra ZZZs by curling up in the passenger’s seat. [Susie: Hold on-- How is this fair? We both got the same miniscule amount of sleep last night. Why am I always the morning driver? I think I’m drawing the short stick on this.] We proceeded through Georgia, South Carolina, and North Carolina in this fashion, Suz feeling bitter and MB zoning in and out of consciousness.

Having observed countless Cracker Barrel restaurant billboards along our journey, and knowing that we were quickly approaching the Mason-Dixon Line, we decided to stop for lunch at one in North Carolina. Lunch was good, down-home Southern food. My favorite part… the vegetable of the day was brown rice. Seriously? Our waitress noticed the confused looks on our faces when she shared that gem with us and quickly assured us that the brown rice had mushrooms in it, which qualified it as a vegetable. I think she was as incredulous as we were. Determined to have some “authentic” Southern cuisine, we both bypassed the brown rice. I had some delicious meatloaf (which I usually hesitate to order because my mom’s is so good… sorry, Mom, you’ve got some competition now), and Suz enjoyed sampling fried okra and fried catfish for the first time. We spent about an hour at the Cracker Barrel, and again, since we were told that it only takes 8 hours to get from Atlanta to Washington, D.C., and we left 13 hours before the game started, we didn’t think an hour would make too much difference. (Hey kids…that’s foreshadowing!) Eventually, either Suz’s resentment or lack of sleep forced her to ask MB to take over at the wheel. The next few hours we drove, drove, drove. Then we drove some more. It didn’t help that it was Friday and that we found ourselves in rush hour traffic. But at least it wasn’t raining.