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Comfort Inn, Lexington
Monday, December 31 2001
setting: south of Staunton, Virginia
After our second morning waking up in a land devoid of hot showers, Gretchen and I decided to take a little sabbatical back in civilization so we'd be clean upon the arrival of the New Year. On a random whim, we decided to drive south down I-81 to Lexington, the next substantial town in that direction. On the way, we realized we'd forgotten our bottle of champagne, so the first thing we had to do in Lexington was find a supermarket. The most obvious such place was a Super Walmart just north of town, but we could stomach such an option and headed into the heart of Lexington. There wasn't much going on there; a Dominos Pizza tractor trailer was offloading supplies and a few people were out in search of champagne. But mostly it was a ghost town: all the students and future Rambos were gone from Washington and Lee University and Virginia Military Institute. We found a little deli downtown whose champagne stocks consisted of two bottles: one for $20, one for $50. We could have been wrong, but all indications were that 2002 didn't merit such excess, so, after saying, "Get the fuck out!" to the little fifteen year old running the cash register, Gretchen asked where else we might get champagne. His first suggestion was Walmart of course, but when Gretchen nixed that idea, he suggested the Kroger on US 60 heading east out of town.
Wow, we were favorably impressed with the diversity of foods offered at the Lexington Kroger. It had all Gretchen's health food favorites in addition to the usual dreary mainstream supermarket staples. Perhaps all the college kids, even at such conservative institutions as Lexington hosts, really do have a liberalizing effect.
We rented a room at the Comfort Inn just north of town. As we were walking Sally in the no-man's-land between the interstate and the motel, we noticed that the rising full moon, showing as it did through thin bands of clouds, looked like a monochrome version of the Comfort Inn logo.
In and around the coming of the New Year, we found ourselves partaking of two different marathons, one being past episodes of Law & Order, the other being those of Sex & the City. We broke for about two minutes to watch terrorists not do anything especially bad to the celebrants in Times Square as the ball crashed to the ground, but almost as horrifying was watching outgoing New York Mayor Rudolph Giuliani awkwardly kissing his girlfriend. It made the time Al Gore pulled that stunt look positively Italian.
I'd go on to tell you about the champagne we drank and how it affected my Boggle® playing, but people are forever writing to tell me how boring my Boggle® accounts are, so I will spare you in the spirit of the new year.
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