Mating bugs and dead malls

As we loaded up the car to begin day three of our journey, there were all these horrifying black bugs everywhere. At first they were just on our car. And then they were on each other. It's apparently horrifying black bug mating season. We saw them everywhere. And they even would be mid-coitus and flying around. It was the stuff of my nightmares.

The bugs that were everywhere!

Our friends who live there, A-Squared, used to live in DC. He is originally from Alabama, and she's from the West coast. At their wedding, we met a bunch of his Bama friends, and they told me there's a saying in Alabama: "Thank God for Mississippi." After traveling through both, I get it. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We met A-Squared, their adorable little nugget, and her friend J for breakfast at this little cafe in downtown Montgomery. It may have been the cheapest meal I've ever had. I got a breakfast sandwich, side of grits, and coffee for like $7. I can't even get coffee for $7 where I'm about to live!

We said our goodbyes and headed west to finally cross Mississippi off the state list. We drove through Selma and crossed the Alabama River. Unfortunately, we took the other bridge and missed the bridge from the march. It occurred to both of us too late! Most of our drive from Montgomery to Mississippi was on small highways instead of the interstate. It was a great way to see Alabama and some crazy interchanges with insane numbers of signs.

We got back on the interstate just before we hit the border. Y'all (hee) I'm glad we went, but I don't think I need to go back. Granted, we didn't really see Mississippi. We stuck close to the highway, only stopping to super charge. But, what we saw didn't really impress.

We hit the first supercharger around lunchtime. It was in a mall - the sort of mall that feels about six months from total annihilation. There were a few people milling about, mostly in the four option food court. And none of the options were good. We opted to try the Mexican restaurant adjacent to the food court. It was aggressively fine, and it seemed the least sketchy of the options. I know there are regional stores and eateries, but I'd heard of none of the choices. There wasn't even a Sbarro or McDonald's!

We passed through Chunky, Mississippi, which just feels way too on the nose. The only thing that could top that in terms of relevance would be to have a town called Diabetes.

Sign for Chunky, MS

The second supercharger we hit in MS was at an outlet mall. There were some okay stores, and I almost wanted to buy something at Le Creuset, but I figured Eddie would kill me given how cramped the car already is. It was a Friday, but the outlet mall was also dead. I think I saw about a dozen other people walking around. There's nothing sadder to a shopaholic than failing commerce.

We finally hit the Louisiana border and made a stop in Monroe to charge. Fun fact, we were invited to a wedding in Monroe, Louisiana that we opted not to attend for logistical reasons. So, I thought it was funny we ended up driving through. 

Our destination for the evening was Shreveport. I had this image of Shreveport from a girl I used to know. In 3rd or 4th grade, we got a new student at my Hebrew school. She was from there and totally foreign to us all. She had a pretty thick accent and talked with her hands in a super bizarre fashion. She sort of bent her fingers back in really uncomfortable looking ways - she must have been double jointed. Anyway, when she introduced herself, she talked about this teeny town we'd all probably never heard of called Shreveport. So, I was thinking Mayberry. Shreveport is anything but.

Apparently, gambling is illegal in Texas, so Shreveport is chock full of casinos and other shore leave type activities. In fact, our hotel was a couple blocks from the Hustler club.

Our hotel in Shreveport was the kind that felt like it used to be really nice and upscale, but now just feels...rustic with an aura of faded glory. The staff were very nice and helped us unload our packed car onto two luggage carts and up to our room. Once we unloaded, we headed out for dinner. We went to a highly-rated steakhouse called 2 John's that was pretty good but not worth the prices. We also opted to bring our own wine, since our entire collection is in the car and corkage was cheap.

When we got back from dinner, something appeared to be going on with the elevator, but we were only on the second floor and didn't think much of it. We should have thought about it more.

The next morning I called down to the front desk to request help with the bags. The woman who answered the phone said, "The elevator is broken so we can't get the luggage carts up there." After she assured me she wasn't joking (because I asked), I requested that someone come up and help us haul everything down at least. She said that she would send someone, and she did: a young woman who didn't look especially hearty.

Apparently this same young woman was trapped in the elevator the night before, which is how we the hotel learned it was broken. And, because this is Louisiana, no one is in a hurry to fix it

Mercifully, we got the car loaded, and I got some bonus cardio, and we were on our way once again.