Stories from a Traveling Salesman - Part 3

"This was one of my first trips, out to Kansas State. Was there for a few days working, very nice group of people (and I guess one of the best vet schools in the nation.)

So when most people think "big college", where a big college is a Division 1 school like Kansas State, they usually think "big city".

Nuh uh. Not in this case.

Kansas State is in Manhattan, Kansas. It's a small city (50kish population), and it's in the middle of Kansas. Literally an hour from anything else besides cows and wheat. There's the university and... well, there's the university.

So I flew into the little airport in Manhattan, did my work, and was preparing to fly out in an evening. God had other plans.

There was a snowstorm a comin'. A big one. It was all over the radio, the news, Kansas was about to get hit in a manner of an hour or two.

Now I didn't really look forward to getting snowed into Manhattan, Kansas. No offense to any Manhattanites reading this, but I could think of a long list of places I'd like to spend a weekend, and Manhattan (KS) was near the bottom.

So the second my work was done, I drove as fast as possible to the airport, even though my flight wasn't due to depart for four hours or so. I wanted to get ahead of the weather, to get confirmation of what I knew was about to happen...

Sprinting up to the flight desk, I breathlessly asked.. "You guys are going to close the airport, aren't you. We're getting snowed in. You're going to cancel my flight, right?"

A few people gathered around the gate craned their necks in, eager to hear what she had to say.

The agent looked around at her sudden audience, pursed her lips, and nodded assent. "Yup, we're going to cancel it, pretty soon. You guys aren't going anywhere".

I turned away from the gate, cellphone in hand. I was NOT getting snowed in here. Called my boss immediately, I had already done my homework with the car rental agency.

"Hey boss. About to get snowed in in Kansas. Listen, the car rental company charges $100 to drop a car off at another airport, and my connecting flight is in Kansas City. Can I have permission to pay the... got it. Thanks boss, owe you one."

Now my audience hadn't all gone away. There was a soldier sitting there, sitting on his rucksack, listening to me talk to my boss.

"Hey buddy, my flight is connecting through Kansas City too. Can I score a ride?"

Now, it is verboten to take anyone, anywhere, for any reason when renting a car through my company. There's probably so many legal issues with it, can you blame them? But this was a soldier, he had to be cool. I wasn't going to strand this kid/guy here just for some liability crap no one would find out about anyway.

"Sure thing man, let's go".

As we sprinted back to the rental desk, the snow began to fall. And fall, and fall, and fall. We hurried out to the car, and peeled out of the lot, but Old Man Winter caught us.

I'm from Ohio. Not only am I from Ohio, I'm from Ohio in the lake effect region. I know snow. I live, breathe, and eat snow covered roads for months out of the year. I drive in it without a 2nd thought. Never been a problem for me.

Except for a Kansas blizzard. Fuck. that. noise. See here's the thing about Kansas. THERE'S NOTHING TO BLOCK THE WIND. So the snow doesn't fall down. It falls sideways. Plows can't do shit, and it's not like Ohio where eventually people wear ruts into the road down to the pavement through the snow. As soon as a car passed, the whole highway's snow was shifted 50 feet to the right, replaced with fresh snow from the prairie. Also, you couldn't see a damn thing.

So I'm white knuckle, going as fast as I dare, but I can barely even keep the car on the road, because I don't even know where the road is, it's just white. Everything is white.

Couple hours pass, we're getting past Topeka, heading east, but I keep glancing at the clock. We're not going to make it. And I just can't bring myself to go faster. Too scared. I confess my cowardice to my passenger.

"Hey I can drive, I drove truck for the Army".

Say what now? This guy is a professional? Army trained, ooo rah? I didn't even think twice. Pulled over, Chinese fire drill, slam the doors, GO GO GO.

And he took off like a bat out of hell. No fear in this guy, no hesitation. We were pushing 60,70,80, screaming down the snow covered freeway.

Through clenched teeth I asked him how often he drove in snow before.

"Oh I just drove truck in Afghanistan. And I'm from California, so I've never actually driven in the snow"

What.

The.

Fuck.

My jaw dropped, and I just stared at him. He was completely non-chalant, screaming down the highway in a crappy econo-rental Honda that weighs about 400 pounds empty, fighting against the wind blowing us off the road. (By far the most scared I was on the road, well except for that one night at the hotel in Phoenix, but that's another story)

But I wasn't going to look like a pussy in front of this kid. If he can do Afghanistan, I can sit in a car with him for another hour in freaking Kansas.

How we made it to Kansas City without wrecking I don't know. How we made it without me crapping my drawers is the real mystery. But we made it. Now I didn't make my flight, but happily, he made his, so in that way, it was worth it.

And if you're going to be snowed in somewhere, Kansas City isn't all that bad."

 MORE GREAT STUFF

Stories from a Traveling Salesman - Part 2

"First things first, we have to get the setting correct. It's important to understand that we're talking about Dominica, not the Dominican Republic. The Dominican Republic is a relatively large Caribbean country that shares its island with Haiti. Dominica is another Caribbean Island, but it's very tiny, and much farther south.

So Dominica is not your usual Caribbean Island. It's not really on the cruise ship line stops, being so far south and so tiny, so it's not very touristy at all.

What is DOES have is a Medical School - Ross University (starting to see the common thread in my travels yet?). Caribbean medical schools, (if you're a Scrubs fan remember the Todd's school?), are the last resort of the sons of privilege to become a doctor, when their grades couldn't get them into any US schools. So you have a poor island, with rich kids (for the most part) attending their last resort med school there.

I was there for a week, doing my thing at the University, and then came my last evening on the island (thank God I had an afternoon flight out the next day, not the morning.)

Now the absolute coolest thing about Dominica was the outdoor bar(s). Imagine a shack, maybe 12x12, serving what is basically a giant outdoor patio. More of a party than a bar. Cheap as hell, delicious food from the Shacks (this food was the best food I've ever had on the road. Completely fresh, made from scratch local Caribbean food. Amazing. Well the best besides the Taco Bell in Boston, but that's another story) down the road, paradise. THAT's what made it the most fun at a bar, the company, the outdoor air, the setting, man it was amazing.

Now, it was usually my rule, being older and in a professional capacity, that I would do my fun time away from whatever university I was at. However, this time, I had to break that rule because:

1.) There was no where else to go. 2.) I didn't have a car, the university was responsible for getting me up the mountain to the airport. 3.) Heck with it, these are all grad students anyway, those aren't really kids.

So I whooped it up with the med students at the bar, like I was a kid again. The rum flowed like beer, and I was making friends left and right. These guys were probably starved for someone different to talk to as well. Imagine if you were stuck on an island with that was made up of your high school and some locals and that's it. No one else would ever come. You'd probably be more than happy to party with someone new, even if they were some lame 30 year old.

Anyway, I got way too inebriated, and ended up going to a house party up the hill. Then I specifically remember outlasting most of the kids, but staying up with 2 or 3 in particular late late into the night, swapping back and forth funny YouTube videos we knew about, laughing until our sides ached. By far the best "one night" friends I ever made."

"Ever get something in your head, and then told you can't have it? Ever have it nag on you, and nag on you, and you're just incredulous that something is impossible, and you want it so bad, but "nope, can't have it?". It's not even something that good, but once you're told you can't have it...

So I was in Boston (Boston University this time) for a week, and all set to head back to Ohio on Saturday morning. I actually had a childhood friend who emigrated to Boston before high school, so I was anxious to catch up with him, have a nice dinner, go out after and get a little stupid, you know the drill.

So we agree to meet up on Friday night. My hotel was back around the University, but I took a cab down to meet him in the Mission Hill area, and we had dinner and went out for drinks.

As the night went on, a few hours later, I told my friend "man I could go for a Cheesy Gordita Crunch, I think I'll hit up a Taco Bell on the way back to the hotel".

"Oh, there aren't any in Boston. You can't.", he replied.

Wut.

Now, I don't know if you guys knew this about Boston, but he's right. Check this crap out: https://www.google.com/maps/search/taco+bell/@42.3195444,-71.1017217,13z

(I don't know how you people in Boston live, seriously. No wonder you're so angry about sports all the time. I'd be angry too without delicious tacos)

No Taco Bell? "Impossible" I thought. "Has to be a lie." And the thought wormed into my brain as my friend and I drank and talked the night away. It festered as I paid my bill. It exploded into full denial as I hailed a cab.

Now this is what you have to know about my job back then. I had a company credit card, and we had a strict $65 per day per diem, for food. Any of my stories where I'm acting the fool, I'm doing it on my own dime. But remember... the per diem was for food... not, well, cab fare...

"I want to go to Taco Bell, then back to Boston University" I slurred towards the driver.

"No Taco Bells in Boston" grunted the cabbie. (Seriously Boston, get your shit together)

"I know. Take me to the closest one".

At this point, the cabbie turned around and regarded me, raising one eyebrow in unspoken question. "That'll be quite the trip" he remarked.

I waggled my company card in the dome light. "Don't worry, I'm good for it".

So that's the story of my 84 dollar cab fare to get Taco Bell, which as I said in my previous story, was the best food I've ever had on the road. There's no better spice for food than to tell a drunk person he can't have it. Well I had it that night, and it was pure ambrosia. Luckily, the company accounting department never questioned the cab fare (pretty much one of the dumbest things I've ever done on the road, except for the Kansas Drive, but that's another story) and I got away with my 100 dollar meal (ordered some for the cabbie too).

Man that Gordita was good."

Find Out What Happened in Kansas

Stories from a Traveling Salesman

Life on the road must be tough and if you've ever seen Trains, Planes and Automobiles, you know what can happen when you travel for a living. The best upside are the stories you'll be able to tell. 

Here are a few stories from a Reddit User that everyone loved hearing about. 



 

"Back in my traveling days, I was working with a coworker a few years back, and we were in LA for the week. We were done for the day, and wanted to go grab a quick bite and some drinks, so when we saw a Magic Johnson TGI Fridays, we stopped in.

Honestly, it was about 15 minutes in before we realized we were the only white people there, but I'll tell you what. I've traveled a lot, and I've never felt more welcomed into a place (besides Duluth, that's another story) by the patrons/bartenders than we were at that TGI Fridays. I had like three conversations going on with the people around me, it was absolutely fantastic. Wonderful few hours."

"So another time on the road, this time I was working with people at the University of Minnesota - Duluth campus. Much like the previous story, it was my last evening in town, and as I usually do, I go out (by myself this time) for a decent dinner and a few brews, cabbing it back to the hotel.

Let me preface this story by saying I'm a football and baseball guy. I watch basketball occasionally, but I know nothing, nothing about hockey save for playing it on my Super Nintendo back in the day and using a dump the puck glitch to score like 100 goals in a game, but I digress..

So I'm at some sports bar in Duluth, local-owned place, and I'm polishing off my 2nd beer, happily burping up the remnants of my burger, and watching ESPN. Order the third beer, start sipping, and become aware that the bar seems to be filling up around me.

More people come in. Then more, and more, and more. Bar, which an hour ago had maybe 15 souls in it, was filled to bursting. I couldn't even move my stool back.

So that night the Minnesota Wild were in the playoffs, and the bar was PACKED. The four guys around me "adopted" me for the night, explaining the game, exchanging high fives, talking and telling stories during commercials, and for that one glorious evening, I became a Wild fan. I've honestly never had so much fun at a bar (except Dominica, but that's another story) as I did that night with my four "one-night" buddies, hooting and hollering, screaming and cheering, glued to the TV.

Unfortunately, the Wild lost that night, but it did nothing to dampen our spirits, and we drank and laughed for a couple hours after the game ended, and I eventually stumbled on out to my cab. Great guys. I've never been a hockey fan before, or since, but that one night, damn I loved me some NHL."

 Find out What Happened in the Dominican Republic in Part 2