Anyone with any sense who is experiencing a run of sour luck knows better than to ask, “What’s next?” You’re tempting fate when you ask her of her plans – and she’s a cranky lady sometimes.
We’ve been through all kinds of weather, we’ve been through accident scenes that were so bad they literally took days to clean up, we’ve been in caves, we’ve been on mountains and we’ve been smack dab in the middle of a tornado as it blew all around us, whipping fury, fur and ugliness like a Donald Trump blow-up doll with a bad pressure leak in it.
So you’d think I would be prepared for an earthquake.
Here’s a tip: no one who lived in South Georgia for most of their lives is prepared for an earthquake. Also, earthquakes generally precipitate sink holes, and everyone knows sink holes are not only the scariest things known to mankind, they’re directly from Satan hisself.
I was minding my own business, sitting watching the pumps while George napped. (This is what I call “working.” It’s a hard job, but someone has to do it.) Truck was off, windows open, a really nice, sunny day in Oklahoma.
All the sudden, I feel a giant oversize rig blow by the truck at about 140 mph. I look up and see nothing of the sort, but all the people who were fueling were running from underneath the awning at the fuel pump, and all the metal on my mirror is still winging (yoing yoing yoing).
First thought: “Roll up the windows, there’s a giant hoard of bees on the other side of that awning, and they are going to kill us.”
Second thought: “Those people aren’t running inside to get away from the bees. WTH is wrong with them? Should I roll down the window and tell them to get inside?”
The “yoing yoing yoing” abruptly stops, and all the people stand still and look around for things falling from the sky. I seriously feel like we may have been visited, and I feel the urge to speak to another human being who just had the same experience, so I crack the window, “Hey driver, what’s going on out there?”
“Well Miss, that’s just a little shake-em-up – they happen round these parts sometimes.”
“You mean an earthquake??”
“Yes, ma’am. Gets a little jiggly sometimes.”
He laughed and walked off, George was already awake and half-asleep again.
“OH MY FREAKIKNG LORD, WE JUST HAD AN EARTHQUAKE. We have to get out of here – now – before the sinkholes swallow us up! Wake up!! I’m getting out, before the sinkhole comes.”
“You stay right where you’re at. You’re in the safest place you could be – there’s water, blankets, first aid kits and a radio. We fall in a sinkhole in my Freightliner, and we’ll be A-Ok. Or would you prefer to waltz around outside on churning earth in your princess pink flip-flops and take your chances?”
“I regret that you chose my flip-flops to pick on, right before we die from falling in a sinkhole. I had hoped you’d be more creative. Just for the record, they match my kick ass Diesel Life shirt, and if I have to die today, I’d like to be color coordinated.”
Sometimes, preparing for sinkholes is hard.