Road trips can be a great get away from the stresses of daily life. They’re a fun way to see another part of the country and to bond with the person or people who are traveling with you.
But they can also really wear a person out.
Last week one of my junking business partners and I packed up and headed on a road trip to Des Moines, Iowa. Laura and I met our third business partner, Dan, who traveled from Milwaukee, Wisc. We were there to attend the second annual Junk Jubilee, an event that brought in 80 vendors of rusty goodness for sale.
After 8 hours of driving, we were worn out and went to bed early. Just an hour into our slumber the “80% chance of rain” in the forecast caught up with us, winds gusted to 50 miles per hour as the rain pelted against the window. It sounded like it would come right into our room.
On the other side of our attempt to sleep the hallway was hopping until after 2 a.m. with people using much louder than an inside voice. We were not impressed.
The next morning, getting out the door to be an early bird at the sale proved to be quite the struggle. Laura and I didn’t talk much as we got ready and we trudged out to the car, under gloomy skies in a city we didn’t know at all.
We agreed right away that we needed caffeine flowing in our systems as we stared down a long day of networking with junk vendors. Typically we enjoy exploring local places but we wanted to play it safe for the trip’s first cup of coffee and we typed “Starbucks” in to the navigation system on my phone.
The pleasant navigator voice told us that Starbucks was 3 miles from our current location and guided us as we drove through the city.
“We may as well dial 911,” Laura said. “This is a coffee emergency.”
“Do you think we can just get an IV for caffeine?” I asked through half opened eyes.
Yes, it was a sad state of affairs.
“Turn left in 1.4 miles,” our computer-voiced navigator interrupted our conversation.
We noticed we were approaching Mercy Hospital and Laura laughed that it was appropriate given our conversation focus.
That’s when the computer voice told us to turn on to the hospital campus. We continued to listen to the voice and then she finished her navigation with, “Your destination is on the right.”
We stared at the massive hospital building and both said “yeah right.” There was nowhere to park and we didn’t think we needed to enter the hospital to get Starbucks coffee no matter how over dramatic we were earlier. We ended up at a little local coffee shop downtown with fast and friendly service and a cool vintage vibe. It really was where we were meant to end up.
Later while driving on the freeway to West Des Moines, Laura spotted the blue “H” that signifies a hospital off of a particular exit.
“Hey look, it’s the “H” for Starbucks,” she said. In Des Moines, we learned that the “H” does indeed stand for two things.