In tiny Epworth, Georgia, I need gas. Pull into a convenience store-cum-gas-station, and tell the person of indeterminate sex there (really, I still cannot decide) I want to fill up and pay cash. Fit the nozzle into the gas tank and start pumping. But the dial fairly crawls along. A good five minutes later, it is creeping past all of four dollars, or less than two gallons.
I run back in and the person says, "Uh-oh, think we're out of gas! So sorry. But there's another station down the road."
So I pay my $4 and drive on. Sure enough, there's another station just around the next curve in the road. And it has a big sign saying "Full Service". And gas is cheaper here. A short and wiry old man comes running out as I drive up, and does the filling for me with a big smile.
I look around. On the wall next to me is a prominent sign: "NO CREDIT OR BEBBIT CARDS!" I'm reminded of the times in India when people might say something like: "Got some Coke-shoke?"
Just below is another sign: "No More Checks of These People -- Ricky L Washburn, Evelyn Burnette, Jantic Ann Curtis, Dawn Lettis, Christopher L Pittman."
Bad, bad, Ricky, Evelyn et al!
The man is done. I pay and leave. Ten minutes down the road is the "REBEL PANTRY" gas station, where the gas is even cheaper and where there's this sign: "We Thank All Our Troops, Fresh Coffee, Clean Restrooms."
Repeated signs in Tennessee have me intrigued. They say: "No Jake Braking Zone."
Now what's this? If your name's Jake, you're not allowed to brake in Tennessee? What's it, some dude Jake handed out a whopper of a check that bounced and they don't want him to stop in Tennessee any more? Was his name on that list with Ricky and Dawn and company, and I just missed it?
At one point, I drive through Weakley County in Tennessee. Allow me to speculate that this name has been used in at least a few jokes over the years.
While there, I see this bumper sticker on a car: "It's a GOOD thing! Ask anyone!"
A bone-dry, completely brown lawn in Greenwood, Mississippi, stands out on its street only because of the lush lawns surrounding it. Also because stuck in it, but not in any of the lush lawns surrounding it, is this prominent sign: "For a weed-free lawn, call Nutra-Green".
Well, this lawn is certainly weed-free. It also seems grass-free, but let's not quibble.
At another point, my radio latches onto a talk show run by a lady called Delilah. Delilah plays songs for you, and she is even willing to choose one for you if you tell her what it's meant for. So a woman named, near as I can tell, Loida, calls in and asks for a song for her boyfriend. This conversation ensues:
D: So tell me Loida, what qualities does he have that you like?
L: Well, he's always happy, and he's understandable [sic -- think she meant "understanding"] ...
D: So he's nice to you, and let me guess, he likes to kiss your face?
L (sighing): Oh yes he does!