Because Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is a magnet for weirdos and odd happenings, she has a story to tell. Mmm hmm. Mrs. HM must have been especially attractive this afternoon. If only she was fast enough to whip out her phone and snap a photo. Or fast enough to holler over her shoulder to her chauffeured young 'un, The Pony, "Whip out your phone and take a photo!"
We left school by 3:30. That's early for us. Not even NewCus believed me when I said, "I'll be leaving in a few minutes." But off we went, headed home by way of Save A Lot to pick up some treats for The Pony's secret pal for Halloween.
I was behind an annoyingly wide electric-blue pickup truck. Couldn't see around it. Couldn't back off because it was so slow. I decided to take the lake road to get off that guy's bumper. At the Casey's where we get T-Hoe's gas, I pulled into the left turn lane, there catty-corner from my mom's bank, the one that cheated her out of ten dollars. It took me a minute to get into the left turn lane, what with oncoming traffic deciding it was THEIR left turn lane, filling up that middle-of-the-road waiting area like they had the right to be there. Kind of like me, when I'm coming the other way.
I was so intent on getting over to make my left turn that I did not notice when the wide electric-blue pickup truck kept going, and a dump truck pulled out to follow it from the lake road. After all, traffic was at a standstill what with me waiting to get in the turn lane to get on the lake road. Sure, my subconscious knew Dumpy was there. You know how your mind kind of goes on autopilot when you have years of driving experience? I knew Dumpy, the white dump truck, was sitting there at the end of the lake road, waiting to pull out left onto the main road, because I would have to swing wide around him to get onto the lake road.
What I DID notice, upon taking my rightful place in the left turn lane, was that some kind of construction had been going on. It was like the public works department had dug across the middle of the road to replace burst water pipes, which happens at the drop of a hat in Hillmomba, and had filled in the trench with gravel. I even commented to The Pony, "What in the not-heaven is this crap? They've dug up the road while we were at school." The construction area was just ahead of where T-Hoe was not going. Didn't affect my left turn onto the lake road.
BUT IT DID!
My subconscious kicked me in the shins, gave me a noogie, and attempted a titty-twister. That swath of gravel from the construction was expanding. All the way up the road where I was not going. I let my eyes flow along that construction site, and saw that the gravel ended at the back of a white dump truck. But it kept going.
DUMPY WAS LOSING HIS LOAD!
Uh huh. An entire truckload of gravel was being spread along the blacktop of the main road. Pretty as a picture. If you're not a country-dwelling denizen, you might not appreciate the symmetry of this accidental endeavor. Dump trucks open their back flap tailgate thingy from the bottom, drive forward, and leave the smoothest, prettiest flat ribbon of new gravel that you've ever seen. It's like a dude's equivalent of watching a layer of chocolate be poured. I'm not a dude, but I'm a country gal who has purchased more than her share of truckloads of gravel. This grand dumping was real, and it was spectacular.
Part of the beauty of the event was the knowledge that Dumpy had no knowledge that he was losing his load. On he chugged, up that slight hill, cars behind him swerving to the left, DRIVING UP THE LEFT TURN LANE to avoid the gravel. I suppose Dumpty might eventually have noticed that his load had lightened. But once we made our turn onto the lake road, we met another white dumper loaded with gravel. Oh, how I would have liked to see that driver's face when he got to his turn, and saw DUMPY's deposit. I imagine he would get on the radio and let DUMPY know that he lost something.
I don't know HOW they're going to clean that up.