Just another typical Wednesday.
At some point last week, the wanderlust was really jabbing me in the ribs.
“SELF, I am SO sick of everything about this area. Run away. Go back to West Bend. Find you a goatman or something.”
So fine. I made the plan and saved the date and figured I’d go picking.
My plan was to hit all the thrift stores in Fond du Lac, and then swizzle on down to West Bend to check out a location for a shoot and get some thrifting in down there after stopping to sketch at a cemetery (because why the heck not?)
Lots of driving and thinking time.
Didn’t really help, but. First stop: St. Vinnies in FDL.
I needed it. They had so much strange clothing there it made my head spin.
I passed by the Coach Outlet on my way down, but didn’t stop. So I figured it was meant to be?
Obvs something I’ve wanted for a little while…
So, got back out to the car and it was warmer, good thing I got some shirts. Next stop was the Goodwill.
That’s where I lost my jeans and put on my shorts.
At gdub, I found a few things…
I can only assume that if Yeet is to Yoink, then Zeet is to Zoinks. As in you wear this while you’re out zeeting around looking for clues to solve the mystery with Scooby and the gang.
Then to the Salvation army across the way:
He’s so cute!
And then I brought it home because duh my mom is on a shelf at home.
Also my home is where YOUR mom is.
I set off for Rienzi because I had it in my head I wanted to draw stones, but I didn’t last terribly long before my foot went numb and I had to leave.
Now. HERE is where the story gets unbelievable.
I still can’t even really believe this all happened, but I have the trophy to prove it.
I tried to get on the highway to go to West Bend, but they modified it and I wound up having to go around a long way to get back where I was going.
Some people were doing 55, some people were speeding voraciously, so i figured I’d follow the speeder past a few of the cars and then get into whichever lane I needed to turn from…
The speeder slammed on his brakes, which is about when I noticed the state trooper and though to myself, “Wouldn’t it be just my luck to get pulled over with a dressed-like-a-cowboy dead raccoon buckled right up front into a booster seat next to me.”
Well guess what.
He pulled out, followed me, and then the lights turned on. I immediately go into panic mode.
“Omg, knives, pills, clothes everywhere and this isn’t even my car and omg what happens if I get a ticket do I lose my job? Oh no, I’m screwed, I’m going to jail omgomgomg I should’ve pulled over further oh no he’s getting out oh well, he’ll come to the passenger side I’ll just hit the window button to roll the window down and…”
Then I looked over and remembered Slappy. With my cemetery book sitting neatly on his lap.
I didn’t even have time to register a thought, because the officer was at the A-pillar. He stopped, slowly and cautiously lowered himself into the window, looked at Slappy, and then looked at me like this:
He introduced himself and informed me he pulled me over for a few things. Asked me how fast I thought I was going and I said 60.
He said “I actually clocked you at 68.”
I apologized.
He said “Speed limit is 55, so.”
I apologized again.
He told me I also got a little too close to that van back there too.
I had no clue what van he was referring to, so I just apologized again.
He asked for licence and proof of insurance and I told him this isn’t my car but I know it’s insured… then he asked where I’m headed.
I told him West Bend to see a friend but “I’m not from here” and was driving like a nutcase because my GPS
Told me I needed to turn somewhere and I didn’t know where…
He asked me where I was coming from, and it was then that I started to see the entirety of what was happening and I began to get nervous.
What, was I going to tell him I came all this way with my fucking dead raccoon to draw pictures in the cemetery in a stolen car armed to the gills with knives? I’m… that’s it.
I’m going away. I’m going to be committed.
I just blurted “New London… I’m from New London.”
He returned to his suv and I sat there sweating, realizing Hall and Oates and Ms. New Booty had both audibly played during the exchange.
I am so done.
He got out after a time, and came back with a piece of paper.
Here we go. What do I tell my boss?
“I’m just gonna give you a warning today, just drive safe and arrive safe okay?”
He handed me the piece of paper and I thanked him profusely.
“And tell Evan he needs to get a current proof of insurance in here because it’s illegal to drive around without one.”
I nodded emphatically and thanked him again. He told me to have a good one and went back to his vehicle.
I signalled and got back on to the highway in the correct lane, because I figured out while I was sitting there that I could SEE the lights I was supposed to turn at and the light turned red as soon as I got to it.
I sighed a huge sigh, melted a little and thanked my lucky stars for not getting a citation.
Then I looked over at Slappy again.
And it ALL registered to me the insanity and hilarity of what had just transpired.
I giggled at first, then burst out in laughter and guffaws and before too long I was at a fever pitch straight jacket cackle. What the actual…
HOW did I walk away from that?
THE FACE HE MADE!!!
Oh my god. Like, did he go back to his vehicle and make the call to HQ like
“Yeah, I got a young woman here for speeding… but she’s got a… NO, she’s got an effing RACCOON wearing clothes buckled in… I’M TELLING YOU, JERRY, she’s got the thing BUCKLED in the front seat! Yeah. With a BOOK in it’s lap…. no, it’s dead. I think…?”
And between chuckles Jerry’s on the other end of the line waving his hands in a shoo-fly motion saying
“No, not today. Not that one. Too many variables, I don’t wanna deal with that. Let her go. Please. For the love of god let that one go.”
Good god.
So I finally made it to the West Bend Goodwill, (OFC) with about a half hour to spare before I had to meet my friend at that location. Found some pretty neat stuff, but that’s the one I always find the coolest esoteric and/or religious stuff, so I was content with this neat thing:
But I should’ve.
Yes I did kinda want it, but let’s be real. Who else needs a bright green leopard printed pony hair hand bag more than I do?
Exactly.
Then I left there and went poking around the place…
Naturally after that I had to hit the West Bend St. Vinnies quick before it closed. I absolutely found a few things there I couldn’t live without…
And a white jumpsuit for my A Clockwork Orange outfit…
I had plans to meet another friend there, so as I was waiting in the parking lot arranging an artful display with our lovely jaguar friend here in the backseat, an older woman who looked like a not-at-all-scary Paula Deen came around behind me.
She said quietly
“Is that a raccoon in your car?”
Oh my god.
“…Yes.” I responded a bit sheepishly.
“Oh, I see. Ha, I had to do a double take! A real raccoon, wow… is he your pet?”
I felt like an ass, so I smiled timidly and said
“Well, he is real, but he’s stuffed so… he’s better behaved that way. Ha…”
She giggled politely and continued.
“Do you drive him around a lot?”
I swear to you this woman was not patronizing me at all and had all the candor of a kindergarten teacher, so I was terrified trying to figure out if she thought I was an insane person…
“I… yeah, actually. Occasionally.”
I’m turning red now, not entirely sure what to make of this situation. She chittered again politely and concluded with
“Ooh, how sweet! I had a boyfriend once that had a pet raccoon. Or ferret? Yes, it was a ferret. Anyway. That is so sweet! You two have a good day!”
I smiled again and thanked her, and she got into her car and left.
I can’t properly describe to you how much I wanted to just fall over after that.
So my friend arrived, I told HIM what happened, and then we went to get some Buffalo Wild Wings.
I’d never been there before, and if you want some delicious spicy bits of chicken with an unreasonable amount of sensory overload, I highly reccomend it…
Then he met Slappy intimately, and I went home to immediately fall into a coma.
10/10 very interesting day.
Thanks for stopping by, hope you had some vicarious fun with me!
Better The Devil You Know 