Sorry for the hiatus guys. Ever since New Years, I’ve been busy with all my resolutions (I am now 15% done with my beer goal—the others, not so much) and catching up on work. Most of my readers, and hopefully Karli Salinger is now one of them, spent a good deal of time with me the past week. Here come the shout-outs—I spent far too much time drinking and driving (although not at the same time, don’t worry) with Joe and Asher. We went to Philly for cheese steaks and fries. Joe and Karli accompanied me up the east coast for some good skiing. I met up with Emily in New Jersey for Shabbat and excellent NYC fun. Plus, my sisters got a ride up to CT after a whirlwind week with me in DC/MD. Even Stu got to spend a night at my house and worry about carbon monoxide poisoning. Okay, that’s it for the shout outs. What do almost all of these people have in common? We probably stopped at a rest stop at some point in our time together.
Let me first stress that today’s post is going to be one out of love. I absolutely adore rest stops for a variety of reasons. First, I find that the gas is usually cheaper here. Granted, I make it a point to fill up in New Jersey so I can indulge in the luxury of not pumping my own gas. As they say at the Jersey Shore, ‘We pump our fists, not our gas’. Even the Maryland House rest stop in Aberdeen filled my tires up for air for me, for free. Even though I then had to replace all of my tires in CT anyways because I was driving on ‘borrowed time’, it’s still nice that Marylanders will fill and patch tires for a very reasonable price. Naturally, when Bruce, aka the Sharbear Express is happy and healthy, I’m happy and not dead in a ditch due to an explosive tire blow out.
But that’s not all I love about rest stops. I love the food and the atmosphere. I have fond memories eating Cinnabons with Asher at various rest stops. I have sampled all the various French fries up the North and South lanes of I-95 from here to New York. I now own a Burger King crown from my latest stop with Karli. The best part of rest stops is that you get to meet comrades who are also on a road trip. Everyone is as worn out and cranky as you are, but the second you step out into the slushy parking lot, suddenly you’re rejuvenated. Your bladder sighs with anticipation of release. There will be coffee at this rest stop to replenish your energy and then overtax your now empty bladder. You get to consume the comfort food that your parents told you was bad for you but somehow at a rest stop, Sbarro and Roy Rogers are now manna from heaven. Also, how can you say no to two pairs of RayBan sunglasses for $15? It’s a steal, man. You can also check your weight at rest stops, because every bathroom has a scale attached to a fortune teller. I don't like knowing my fortune though based on my weight, so I don't see why they'd merge those two items together. If you want to further remember your great times, you can get souvenir pennies made! Now that's a terrific 50 cent memory.
I urge you to check out the new Delaware Welcome Center rest stop just over the border in Delaware. For a small state, this is a big area. The hand driers in the marble floored bathroom are especially noteworthy. There’s a Baja Fresh there too, which is unprecedented cuisine for a service area. I’ve been waiting for this area to open for the past five years. It was worth the wait, I assure you. Clearly, I have very little going on in my life if seeing the grand opening of the Delaware Welcome Center was in my five year plan. Well, it was that and go to law school. Oops. At least I've done one of them.
In addition, I play games at rest stops. Because I am Jewish, I can officially tell you about the ‘Spot the Jew’ game. This is a game I invented one day with my Monsey travelers Ali, Jon and Shai. You get five points for every Jew you spot whether in a car but more often at a rest stop. They’re usually very identifiable in their minivans held together with duct tape and kavana. Maybe its discriminatory but it is definitely fun. I accrued 25 points just at the Richard Stockton Service Area alone. Win!
They always say it's the journey, not the destination that is the most memorable. So readers, next time you make the great trek up 95 to spend Shabbat in NYC on the UWS or you’re going to Atlantic City, stop and smell the rest stops. Don’t inhale in New Jersey, though. The rest stops are your friends and you’ll make new friends along the way. At least try and see if you can beat my high score in Spot the Jew.
"held together by duct tape and kavana"
ReplyDeletebrb, rofling