An extra post, unrelated to missions, but related to traveling.
Sunday morning as we left Salinas, several experiences combined into an increasing feeling of annoyance. First, the man next door in our hotel was yelling at a young child. It was clearly an over reaction and very disrespectful and I felt the humiliation that the child must have been experiencing. Second, as I pulled out of the hotel parking lot, cars were packed into the gas station next door and vehicles were lining up on the street in front of us right and left; not normally a problem, but everyone was in a hurry and moving, trying to anticipate everyone else’s next move. Third, we decided to stop at a fast food restaurant around the corner for breakfast. When we placed our order, we were told that breakfast was not available, that “we stop serving it at 11:00 and it’s 11:02.” (Legalism). Fourth, we drove several miles to a “sit down” restaurant we’d seen the night before; there were no parking spaces left in the lot so we left, heading in the direction of the mission. Fifth, we came upon another restaurant that serves breakfast all day, so we stopped and went in. As I walked up to the host, he walked away to seat someone. When he came back, he engaged in conversation with a male customer…and then walked away. Then a customer came into the restaurant behind me and the male customer mentioned previously grabbed the list of names and said, “I’ll sign you up” as he added her name to the list. When the host came back, he told the male customer he’d set him up at the counter…and then walked away to get chairs. After counting 13 parties already on the list and realizing I wasn’t one of the chosen ones (predestined to be left behind), we left and went next door to Gag-in-the-bag. Sixth, after taking our order, the worker gave Dee Ann a cup for a soft drink, but didn’t give us the coffee we ordered; we figured it would come with the meal. When I picked up our order and the coffee wasn’t included, I told the worker that we had ordered coffee. She insisted that she had already given it to “your wife” and I stated she hadn’t. She argued with me until I pointed to where we were sitting and she acknowledged I was correct, “Oh, I thought you were the other customer,” and then gave me the coffee. When I sat down, I saw the other couple she spoke of; the man was at least 15 years older than me. I guess in the eyes of a 17 year old, a 61 year old looks about the same as an 85 year old. As we left town I played Ann Wilson singing, “We Gotta Get Out of This Place!!” (emphasis mine).