The furthest point in my sales territory is a 3 hour drive from home. When I initially learned of this far, far away podunk town that I was required to visit once a month, I was quite concerned about the enormous distance away from my kids. I envisioned every far-fetched, horrific, disastrous event that could possibly happen to Cole and Patty and I would be a lengthy 3 hours away . Once I came to grips with the fact that Jerry would be capable of handling the catastrophic situation, I thought this destination might evolve into somewhat of a mini “get-away”.
Podunkville has turned into a “Thelma and Louise” type chick empowerment adventure, minus Louise and Brad Pitt. It does suck leaving the house before the sun comes up, however, I have the luxury of getting ready ALONE, with no little mouths requesting the impossible, no refereeing wrestling matches or meltdowns about wanting to wear a bikini top with a miniskirt.
I drive without neon bouncy balls flying into the front seat, no rotater cuff twists reaching towards the backseat, collecting unwanted gum. I am my own DJ of the fabulous Sirius radio. I am not forced to listen to Hannah Montana or the Jonas Brothers, or Jerry’s fave, the weather station. I pumped up The Clash’s classic: Should I Stay Or Should I Go? on the 80’s station, and there was some serious head-banging going on in my ride. Besides the stellar music, I can catch up with abandoned friends on the cell , without being interrupted constantly that “she hit me!” ,“NO, he hit me first!”
With the exception of a few 18 wheelers, the road is empty. The town I am journeying to is no thriving metropolis, folks. There is open, roasted desert on either side of the desolate freeway, flanked by majestic mountains in the distance, oh, and how perfect, a landfill that you can faintly smell…mmmm. Heaven.
Podunkville is the type of place that you would stop in to pee as a very last resort because you couldn't hold it anymore and your bladder was on the verge of exploding. It’s mostly an impoverished community, dilapidated stores and a few old time gas stations line the crumbling streets. There is a donut shop in a trailer. Yes, a trailer. Popular front yard landscaping trends are ancient, rusted cars up on blocks. There is a nearby casino and grocery store, which are the two major employers in the town. One local exclaimed, “We got a Subway sandwich shop now, woo wee!!!” I remember feeling that way when we first got Nordstrom’s a few years ago. The same thing? Sure it is.
I visit 6 doctors there, who are welcoming and glad to see a rep, which makes the 3 hour trek well worth the haul. It is such a tiny community, when I enter an office, they know instantly that I’m not "from 'round here." Today, a Podunkville citizen affectionately called me, “city slicker.” When he grinned, he resembled a old, leathered jack-o’-lantern, missing a few essential teeth here and there. His wife chuckled at her clever hubby, revealing a matching smile. I guess dental plans are tough to come by ‘round here'.
As I leave Podunkville, I revel in the feeling that I am a strong, independent woman, like Thelma and Louise, out on the open road, living on the edge, well, kinda, after all, I am there to do my job. For just a short time, I get to be just a chick driving with old school music rockin’ in my four door sedan with two booster seats in the back.
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