However, as it was several miles down the road and I was already happily ensconced at another W/M party, I decided to wait til tomorrow. Unfortunately, when I checked the fridge at dinnertime my iceberg lettuce had experienced a form of global warming, so I realized I'd have to make the purchase tonight. Thinking all was well, but granted, in a bit of a tearing rush, I headed down the road. When to my wondering eyes did appear a Flying J, I pulled off and made for the ever-beloved propane island.

CRASH! SQUOOSH! BANG! Ok, not that dramatic, but a big CLOMP at least. I, a much-experienced RV driver at this point, had made my usual wiiiiiide turn, so I was quite dismayed that I must have banged Bertha's hiney on some invisible something. I got out to make my assessment and lo-and-behold, Bertha's hiney was fine but I'd banged the el crappo out of her stairs, which in my haste I'd neglected to retract.

At this point, I'm actually non-jokingly sorry to say, my usual expletive <dadgummit> was not what came out of my mouth. I apologized to God on the way into the counter while wondering what in the world had gotten into my tongue <see James 3:8>. I got some propane, kicked the stupid, offending stairs, watched for a moment a truck driver loudly retching into a trashcan while he filled up his tank, and headed back to the party. Luckily my space was still available though two more participants had joined in my absence.

After consulting with my most honorable father <via cell> we decided that the stairs were sticking too far out into traffic to be safe. Thus, I grabbed the hammer I keep under my admiral's driving chair <you can guess what for> and decided to whack the el crappo out of the bottom stair in the opposite direction. While employing the tried and true brute force approach, the hammer pinged out a shard of metal that hit my eyebrow. At that point I took my non-lacerated cornea and, with thanksgiving, gave up the brute force approach.

I whipped out my trusty Good Sam Emergency Roadside Assistance card and was immediately put on hold for 10 minutes <coincidentally, 9 1/2 minutes longer than I was on hold when purchasing the service>. However, when they answered we had a lovely discussion wherein I told him what an idiot I was and he did a good job not laughing at me -- though I can just imagine my call being used in future training scenarios. You see, I used to use those calls in my training scenarios.

Scenario A: Ditzy Female. In today's training scenario we will listen to a call from a woman who obviously should be doing something besides steering a motorhome down the open road. Your objective: don't laugh.

Anyway, turns out broken stairs aren't exactly covered. They'd cover a mobile mechanic to come out, but I have to pay for his parts and labor while he whacks the el crappo out of the stairs, hopefully to better effect than a broken eyeball. I said I'd get back to him and hung up.

At this point, my options were limited so I decided to eat my humble pie <play the ditzy female card> and go invite one of my six male neighbors to give me a second opinion. However, when I stepped out I ran smack into an elderly couple and, as I described my problem, the woman was the only one who listened while the man crawled into their coach. She came over and took a look and said, oh you're fine, it only sticks out a little more than your mirror.

I'm comforting myself with the fact that this is my first serious mishap <forgetting the unfortunate stuck-like-a-pig episode> in several months of travel...but I don't think that will be comforting enough when I'm driving down the road with the evidence of my memory lapse flapping in the wind.

The evidence of destruction is too beautiful for a teeny, tiny picture in the blog, so click here to view in all its gory detail.