it's golden baby, golden

Edited to answer some questions asked about my run in with Borat.

I mentioned in my last post about a story involving Borat in a remote farm field. It's not an exciting story, just weird, and maybe strange enough to share. Probably not. So if you have anything else to do, do it because this will be five minutes of your life you won't get back. Don't say I didn't warn you.

I have to give you a bit of background to tell what's really just a short story so I'll try to keep it brief (HA! Not my style at all, so strap yourself in for the long-winded ride).

It was last Tuesday and the last day of visiting my In-law's farm. I was ready to leave. I had packed up all the gear, emptied the diaper pail and kitty litter and only two things were left to do: capture the cats and pack up the car. But Mother Nature was not being cooperative. We couldn't pack up the car because of the torrential rainstorms that hadn't let up for hours. I was trying not the pace (too rude!) and instead I sat in the porch with husband's sister bouncing Bumper on my knee while watching lightening storm after lightening storm come across the field. I think they were coming from the south west and you could seriously see cluster after cluster of lightening and rain roll over the hay fields.

I was doing all the driving that day and we had approximately 6 hours ahead of us, half on the 401 - a scary highway for a wee down east girl (yes, I'm wee!). I don't mind the rural highways but the 401 scares the crap out of me and I did not want to be night driving on that sucker. So finally, the rain became "normal" and I jumped up and barked out "let's get the cats and hit the road". Within 30 minutes I was behind the wheel, putting metal to the floor leaving the in-laws in the dust. We head towards the first "roadmark" on the trip, a small town that has a gasbar with coffee. I had been drinking decaf with lactose-free skim milk product (yes PRODUCT) all weekend and I needed some real deal with real diary cream. I freakin' hate the diet food my in-laws love to eat... but that's another post. And a post more interesting than this one but you can't say I didn't warn you.

As we got closer to the town, with only a small country road and a bridge between us, I noticed that the oncoming drivers are all flashing their daylights at me. Down home this means "fuzz ahead, slow down" so I made the proper adjustments to my speed(ing)(no, I'm not a fast driver but come on, these country roads sometimes beg for something more than 80km/per hour). Hmmmm, there seems to be alot of oncoming traffic, I think. Then I saw flashing lights ahead. Arghhh. No one is directing traffic, WTF? Finally someone came over and told me that a transformer blew in the storm and had come down over the road. Crap, crap, double crap. Before I can ask for directions, they disappeared. So here I am with baby, cats and husband and we are 5 minutes from coffee. But oh so far away. And with no idea how to get out of this place. No maps baby, nada.

I tell husband to call his folks and find out NOW because I need out of here. As he calls and starts getting new directions, I dig into my bag in search of sugar (did I mention the in-laws are diet crazy and they had nothing sweet in the house - I mean nothing) and the only thing I can find is this bag of diet Chips Ahoy thin craps that MIL gave me. So gross but at the time they worked. I was desperate. Gosh damn I'm getting side tracked... sorry folks. ANYHOOOO.... We got new directions and we find this tiny turn off that will eventually get us back on track. We drive down these tiny roads and we are WAY off the beaten track. We finally find the road to another road that will lead us to the highway and it's between these two farm fields. So we are headed down this Stephen King like setting (think Children of the Corn) and I notice in my rearview mirror that a car has pulled right up on my butt (which really ticks me off) and because I don't know the road I can't speed up for fear of missing our turn off. Crap, crap, double crap.

okay, so this is what I usually see when I look in my rearview but if I was better
at photoshop I would have pasted in a big black car over the fuzz.

I'm cursing under my breath and I hope I can shake the tailgater soon. We finally find our right turn and lone behold, the tailgater pulled up beside me, making that frantic "roll down your window" motion. I slowly roll down the window and out of the other car leaned Borat. He asks me in the thickest accent "do you (pause) know the (pause) way to fdljafdsja?". Yeah, I didn't quite get that last part, which made me ask "where are you going?".

Bad question. Stupid question.

He said: "Toronto".

OK folks. Bear with me. We are in a farmers field, 400 kilometres (250 miles) from Toronto. And here I have a dead ringer for Borat asking me for directions to the same place I'm headed.

And then husband chirped in "That's where we are headed!".

"I will follow you!" Borat proclaimed.

Ummmm.... I'm thinking.... you are going to follow me for 400 km? Now reader, I don't know about you, but I have trouble leading people into my apartment much less down a road. But I drive on and as I glance into the rearview I see Borat keeps giving me the thumbs up.

I figure he would know how to get Toronto on his own once we got to that town I was talking about. But upon arrival at the gas bar, I jumped out for my coffee and said "you can find your way from here, right?" I discovered this guy had no idea where he was, much less where Toronto fit on the map. Someone had given him very vague hand-written directions that by my best guesstimation would have landed him in Manitoba. So here I was, stuck with Borat. On my tail. Waving and thumb's upping (?) me and yelling God Bless you once I got him on the 401. It was the longest 6+ hours of my driving life. Yeah I know, not much of a story but come on now folks. What I want to know is: WHAT THE HECK WAS HE DOING IN THAT CORN FIELD?
Told you I was long-winded. But you should have known that by now. And if you are a first time reader: now you know. Sorry but you can't say I didn't warn you.

Edited to add:
HBM (in the comments) asked if I got my coffee and did Borat make it to Toronto. Excellent questions if I say so myself. Sadly, I did not get coffee that day. When I got to the mentioned gas bar, that transformer that blew out was their main source of power and we were S.O.L. I did later pull over at another place to get a coffee and the following happened:

I pulled over and Borat followed suit. I told him I needed coffee and to feed Bumper so we need to pit stop for 10. He said "God bless you" and went in to the store also. I headed to the back of the store to get my coffee while he stayed in the front section. I discovered no coffee (W.T.F!) and consoled myself with a bottle of water (poor, poor substitute but at least it had no artificial sweeteners). As I headed back up front, I discovered Borat quizzing the stoned looking cashier on the price of smokes. And I quote "What (pause to look up something in his book) is your cheeeepest package of cigarettes kind sir?". That kid looked so confused (drugs will do that to you) and tried to explain that all smokes are the same price, but this was not understood and I had to stand in the beef jerky aisle (kinda ducking too, I might add) until this exchange had ended (unsuccessfully for Borat as he did not want to pay full price for smokes).

Did Borat make it to Toronto? Not quite sure, but he sure did look happy peeling off from my butt as he sped down the 401. End of story. I promise.

And that really does conclude my 50th post. I swear.