A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a three-part series on my families trip up to Williamsburg, VA. We stayed at the Powhatan resort (which is supposedly haunted, though I didn’t tell the children that). We visited the Jamestown settlement and the Yorktown museum. We generally just had an excellent time away from work, relaxing as a family. I focused on the fun things that we got to experience and the excellent living quarters that we had while we were there.
One thing that I didn’t write about…. all of the toll booths on the way back.
This is something that you don’t typically think about (or at least I don’t) when you are driving in an area that you are not used to. For that matter, unless it is shown directly on the GPS, most people are unaware of anything that is going on in regards to a long trip outside of the starting and stopping points.
Our GPS took us on a different route going there than it did on our return so I was not prepared for the number of toll booths that we would be required to go through on the way home. If I remember correctly, we passed through four of them at $.75 per stop. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am not anti-toll booth. I think they serve a good purpose in keeping the upkeep of public roads on point. That’s not the point here. What I am getting at is that sinking feeling that you get when you see a sign for a toll booth and realize that you don’t have any cash or change in your pockets.
You know what I mean don’t you?
I mean, who carries cash anymore? Most of us, or at least those of us who have moved on along with society, have a debit card or two in our wallets and have little use for those green pieces of paper that we might have used when we were younger. And, who has use for coins besides small children who still want to play the crane game as your leaving Wal Mart?
For that matter, the one thing that most people still use change for (vending machines) have begun to be converted to accept debit cards.
Yet, here I was with no change in my pocket and four toll booths in a 5 to 10-mile stretch. I began digging. I was looking under the floormat and in the cracks between the seats. The kids started looking in the floorboards for quarters. At every stop, I thought to myself, “surely this is the last one.” Then another would appear and we would start the process again.
After four of these booths, I became convinced that we had mined our vehicle completely of any loose change. Man, I really hope there are no more stops. And, you know what? There weren’t. I had the exact change that I needed for all four stops just lying around in the truck. So, for that I am grateful but I also learned a lesson. Keep spare change in your vehicle. You never know when you’re going to hit a toll booth.
Life is Strange. Live it Well.