The sign said: "Out of Order."  How could this be? After all we’ve been through to get here and now this! I started to wonder what I’ve done in this life or a previous one but didn’t have time to contemplate. Getting to this point, I’ve contorted every way that’s possible while wearing a seatbelt. I’ve sat as still as a wax figure at Madame Tussaud’s. I’ve prayed silently and out loud. All to prevent a ruptured bladder. I’ve had to go in the worst way for nearly two hours, and the situation is now beyond dire. 

After my sister ignored the first two rest stops to teach me a lesson about not going at home between guzzling a homemade cold brew and setting out on our road trip, she turned into my biggest hero as soon as she realized how serious I was. Weaving in and out of traffic like Danica Patrick, she sped 80 mph in a 65 mph zone, practically two wheeling it at a bend in the road.

Then, we had no choice but to slow to a crawl. There was an accident (Expletive!) on I-95 N, at which point I really had exhausted all coping skills and turned to the Lord Almighty. After what seemed like an eternity (10 minutes), we were moving at full speed again. 

But a few minutes later, the clouds blackened. Before I knew it, we were white-knuckle driving and could barely see the end of our hood, let alone the car in front of us. Lisa had no choice but to slug along once more. Thankfully, it was a fairly quick downpour but we lost ground and I went further into insanity.

Then a state trooper pulled us over. You can’t make this stuff up. Because my sister handled the encounter like a pro, he let us go with a warning after we promised we’d drive responsibly for the rest of this trip and all trips ever after. We were grateful he showed such mercy for someone who looked like he has never lost control of anything in his life. He even gave us an escorted trip with sirens and all to get us there safely and quickly. That’s when we pulled into the exit for the rest stop. 

When we walked inside, I saw the huge sign, WOMEN’S ROOM, and thanked God in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, we made it. It wasn’t until we turned the corner that we saw the out of order sign and the yellow cleaning cart. 

For the first time, Lisa looked defeated and asked me what I was going to do. “I have no other choice.”

Desperate and beyond humiliation, I put on my sunglasses, stormed into the Men’s Room, quipped, “I don’t see a thing,” banged open a stall, and dropped my purse. The rest is history. Nirvana. 

I emerged a changed woman and met up with my sister. “Looks like we will have some time to kill before the reception. What do you want to do?”

“How about a cold brew?” She asked with a wink and a smile.