Today our plan was to lay low around\nthe trailer, saving up any sexagenarian energy for stock car races\nscheduled for tonight at the fairgrounds across the street from\nWaiiaka RV Park where we are currently camped. Our activity wasn’t\nentirely idle. We made a short foray into town to look at some very\nnice historical buildings and houses downtown. We stopped at WalMart\nand Peggy ran in and got us stocked up on liquor before we move on to\nthe expensive liquor wastelands of Oregon and Washington. Oregon only\nsells liquor in state stores, one per city except Portland, where\nthere are two. Little towns like Langlois, Mapleton or Bridge have\nneither liquor stores nor satisfied alkies. The stores in cities are\nnotorious for being closed whenever one might be tempted to buy a\nbottle or drink and when they are open, their prices are a bit steep.\nIn Washington, the stupid voters have allowed the state to collect\nsin taxes on liquor such that a 1.75 liter bottle of Irish Cream at\nCostco costing $14.95 + 9% sales tax in California is $31.95 + sales\ntax on the same bottle in Costcos in their beautiful state.\nAccordingly, Peggy snagged a half dozen bottles of Irish Cream and a\ncouple fifths of Jack Daniel’s to get us through our proposed foray\ninto points north. I suspect it will be insufficient to carry us\nthrough unless I quit aspiring to be a drunk but it should cut down\non some expense. We also, quite by accident, found a nice guy selling\ntamales from under an Easy-Up in a parking lot and returned home to\ndevour his tasty creations for lunch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\tThe time for the races was\napproaching. Unfortunately, our weather apps on our phones foretold\nof rain starting at roughly the same time as the racing. I suggested\nthat weather forecasting we have sought, to date, has quite often\nbeen absolutely incorrect so we gathered up our butt pads, blankies\nand warm garb and drove across the street to a parking lot pretty\nclose to the fairgrounds entrance. We strolled down the fairgrounds\nmidway for a few hundred yards, eventually making it the ticket booth\nfor the track.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Things started to get a little weird for the next part of our journey. I stepped up to the window to purchase our tickets and the first thing I noted was that the 30-something woman leering back at me was gritting her teeth and her eyes were apparently performing some form of ocular calisthenics, moving rapidly from place to place but not stopping anywhere to focus. She promptly asked \u201cTwo seniors?\u201d I asked her how she knew and nodded. She then stated our tickets would be eight, instead of ten, dollars each and I forked over a twenty. She handed us two little blue tickets and thirteen dollars in change, jaw just a-grinding away. Puzzled, I mentioned that I was under the impression that elderly adult tickets were eight bucks a head, I was attempting to purchase two of said tickets and I suspected the quantity of change from my twenty might have been returned with a calculation error. I displayed the ten and three ones so she could see the denominations and she indicated she had it right. I replied that that was some senior discount they were offering \u2013 from ten bucks a head to three dollars and fifty cents. She googled her eyes at me for a few seconds and said that I was mistaken, senior tix sold for eight bucks a head. I told her I was attempting to buy two, even though she had already given us the two tickets and the change, calculated by some unfathomable arithmatic. Again, I fanned the thirteen dollars out on the counter and, all of the sudden, she had the look of discovered revelation and picked up one dollar from the change pile. I was trying not to just stiff ’em so I slowly and plainly mentioned to her that two eights was sixteen and sixteen from twenty was four. Her eyes almost quit moving for a couple seconds before she snatched the remaining twelve bucks off the counter, dug around in her cash drawer and returned with four dollars and a raised-eyebrows questioning look. I gave her my nicest smile and wandered into the track. I hope the racers were not counting on the gate proceeds, if any, for any of the prize money.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\tWe could hear a heat race in progress\nwhile approaching the ticket booth and entered the grandstands to\nfind a seat just in time for about five laps of old stock cars\nroaring around the track before it started to rain and the heat was\ncalled. It turns out the weatherman, in this case, was dead accurate\nwith the skies opening up exactly as forecasted. The officials tried\nto dry the track but when cars got back onto it to attempt a race,\nthey were mostly spinning and proceeding in unintended directions.\nThe races were called for tonight. The track announcer indicated\nthere would be races tomorrow night and those attending tonight could\npick up free tickets for tomorrow on their way out. We waited until\nthe line of folks standing in the rain shortened up and headed out to\nget our tix for tomorrow. As I approached the ticket booth, I was\nagain obliged to deal with \u201cOl Swirly Eyes\u201d and when I picked up\nmy tickets, I asked if these new tickets would get me into\ntomorrow’s races. She ground her teeth for a second before stating\nunequivocally \u201cI dunno.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\tWe walked back out to our truck in the\ndrizzle. Fortunately, we didn’t have far to go.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Today our plan was to lay low around the trailer, saving up any sexagenarian energy for stock car races scheduled for tonight at the fairgrounds across the street from Waiiaka RV Park where we are currently camped. Our activity wasn’t … Continue reading