Stranded at the drive-in

Today’s post brought to you by: No-one. You can’t buy stamps on Veterans’ Day.

Grateful for: Whoever invented Uber

Trying to accept: Everything I’m hearing outside bedroom door

As I was leaving Edie’s this morning I stopped by the counter to ask the waitress what smothered potatoes are.

“Hey, Miss Bridget” she said. “What? You’ve never had smothered potatoes?” Returned 30 secs later with more staff in tow and a free plateful which I ate while they all watched and peppered me with questions.

You know you’re in the south when:

• You step outside and the heat whacks you for six
• You can’t find a footpath
• You realise you’ve started calling everyone “sir” or “m’am”
• The warmth of the people equals the warmth of the weather

Walked in the meltingly hot sun to Borden’s ice cream parlour, opened 1940 and barely changed since. Heather the server couldn’t believe her ears when I said I’d come all this way for the food, including walking all the way (2km but might as well be 20km to the locals) from Edie’s. “Oh, you’re soooo cute!” she drawled and then gave me a big hug. “Welcome to Lafayette!”

Borden’s. And the menu’s just like you imagine.

Half expected to see Hong Kong Phooey behind the wheel

Presumably to transport chain gangs

The swamp tour was like Miss World in a boat. Representing Louisiana we had Bob the guide, then a family from Ontario/Madagascar, 2 very good looking and alas probably gay guys from Montreal, someone from somewhere else, and Yafit from Tel Aviv.

Bob showing the girth of my stomach after 1.25 days in Lafayette

Thankfully alligators are seasonal anorexics and don’t eat in autumn so didn’t give a toss about i-phones zooming right into their faces.

As interesting to me were the Spanish moss-covered cypress and tupelo trees, the magnificent egrets, the duck hunting maimais and the water lilies that smell strongly of vanilla in spring.

Here’s an interesting fact. Some races (Asians, Native Americans) don’t have facial, chest or back hair.

“Why, Gail!” I hear you exclaim. “How on earth did you learn that fascinating fact?” Well let me explain, dear readers.

Actually I don’t remember the story but something about when el Spanish come to the US for an extended vacation. That was the first time the native people had seen beards, which reminded them of the stuff growing on trees so that’s how it got its name. So there.

Jousting, gator style

I cadged a ride back with Yafit. Obviously there’s no Hebrew word for ‘downtown’, ie where I asked her to drop me off. It must instead translate to some bloody gigantic generic shopping mall miles from town. But I did knock off some demerit points for her almost driving off the road when I told her my age.

Be grateful you’re not a new mother in Israel ‘cause you’d be back at work within 3 months. No exceptions. I wonder if they give you another 2 years compulsory military service if you kick up a fuss.

After being stranded at the mall I went outside to look for a bus. A man in the car park came rushing over. I thought he’d been sent by an angel to give me a ride home but instead he pointed out the pair of black knickers that’d just fallen out of my bag.

Needless to say I had as much chance of finding a bus or footpath as I did of winning an alligator wrestle. So I started walking and walking and walking (think I’ve done more than just bruise my tailbone. Might check out US health care system. That’d make an interesting post).

It was getting dark so found refuge in Don’s Seafood. And what a mighty fine choice that was too. Grilled corn on the cob, steamed veg (to counter the fat, carbs, fat, salt, carbs, fat I’ve eaten all day) and spicy chicken and andouille sausage gumbo. Yum. Yum. Yum.

Normally pork wouldn’t get within spitting distance of my digestive tract but that sausage is something else. Probably the chitterlings (euwwwww) that make it so good.

One bursting at the seams stomach later I phoned an Uber friend and who should arrive but Stefan the peanut butter munching cyclist from last night.

Normally I wouldn’t fess up to someone with a nutrition degree about what I ate today but Stefan’s worse than I am when it comes to eating the local grub. Ok for him though because he biked 60 miles today.

I should’ve brought an alligator home to let loose on Lafayette’s young republicans who are gathered here tonight randomly ringing people and reading prepared scripts telling them, in very loud and clear voices, why they should vote for Carlee for mayor.

Having heard the spiel 156 times I can tell you she’s fiscally conservative, pro-life and pro-second amendment (yip, the gun-toting one). Wish they’d go home.

Right, time to savour every minute of this large and comfortable bed. Wednesday night’s accommodation will be seat 11A on Greyhound to Orlando.

Wonder if these good ol’ boys can get me some compensation from American Airlines for damaging my image and self-confidence. Enough to pay for the rest of my trip.

1960s intercom at Betsy’s place. “Hey honey. Bring us a beer, would ya? Before the game kicks off again.”

Never smile at a crocodile. I’m not. I’m smiling at a camera. And that’s an alligator. Duh.