I got out of the apartment at around four, which gave me about an hour and a half to reach a Crawfish festival in Huntsville, starring a who's who in Texas artists (Django Walker, Phil Pritchett, Honeybrowne, and Reckless Kelly). I'd gone to Yahoo Maps to get directions. Since I don't have a printer (I have four computers, three monitors, three sets of speakers, a digital camera, a scanner, but no printer) I had to handwrite the directions on an envelope, which I promply left on my keyboard as I raced out the door. No matter, the directions were simple enough (North of 45, right on TX-19, left on Sam Houston Somethingorother) so I kept on trucking.

As I drove north on 45, I noticed that the other side of the road was horribly backed up. I wondered what it was, but reasoned that whatever it was would be solved or otherwise not an issue at 2:30 or so in the morning when I was on my way back.

I cursed myself for not bringing the camera when I passed the famed Sam Houston statue. I stop at a convenience store and get some coke. Realizing that I'm a bit low on cash, I try to use the ATM. It returns and error and the clerk tells me it's moody. Oh well.

When I reached TX-19 I got off and by a strange series of turns not denoted in Yahoo Maps I ended up driving north for about 15 minutes, then south. Then I was lost. So I went north again. Then south. I must have passed Old Sam Houston Rd. fifteen times. I know because each time I saw it I got excited, but then it was pretty apparent that OSH was not Sam Houston Somethingorother. So I finally went on I-45 to see if it was really TX-91, or TX-21, or TX-somethingelse. Nope. Only TX-19. So I decided to track down the college campus, figuring that Sam Houston Somethingorother was a major street, I'd find it that way. So I followed the sign that said, as clear as day "SAM HOUSTON COLLEGE CAMPUS THIS WAY." So I got off and... whammo. Nothing. Next thing I knew I was passing Old Sam Houston Rd. on gool ole TX-19 again. So I doubled back ("Hi Old Sam Houston Rd. again!") and then doubled forth, turning at the first junction after the Exit Sign to SHSU That Leads To Nowhere. So I was on some highway called US70.

"Hey look! It's Old Sam Houston Rd!"

Drive drive drive.

"Old Sam Houston Rd again! Hi!!"

Near as I can tell, OSH is shaped like a pretzel, and no matter where you go your going to pass it at least once.

Drive drive drive.

There's the campus!

Drive drive drive.

Double back. "Hey Old Sam Houston Rd!" "Hey Old Sam Houston Rd!"

I still couldn't find Sam Houston Somethingorother, though. Until I swore I saw it in an address in the corner of my eye. Was I actually on Sam Houston Somethingorother?

Hmmm...

Double back. "Hi Campus!" "Hey Old Sam Houston Rd!" "Hey Old Sam Houston Rd!"

I kept looking for some indication of the road I was on. Maybe I wasn't on US70 anymore. Maybe US70 is also Sam Houston Somethingorother.

Double back. "Hey Old Sam Houston Rd!" "Hey Old Sam Houston Rd!" "Hi Campus!"

Generally, when in this situation, I just look at an intersection and see what the road I'm on is by virtue of it telling the people crossing the road whether or not this was the road they needed to turn on. Funny thing, though, none of them were marked!

So I was apparently on the Road So Obvious It Doesn't Need a Sign. Since Sam Houston Whatsoever is a big road name without a location, I thought I might have had a match.

Drive Drive Drive. "Hi middle of nowhere!!"

Double back. "Hi Campus!" "Hey Old Sam Houston Rd!" "Hey Old Sam Houston Rd!" (Yes, I know the joke is old, but it was old for me when I kept passing them over and over again, so suffer with me. That will distribute the suffering equally and thus lower my level of suffering as since the events have already occured, the sum suffering is constant, and thus the more ways divided the less the total sum)

I finally see a sign that says "JOLLY FOX CRAWFISH FESTIVAL" and a whole bunch of cars parked on the grass. Except no one was there. I did some investigating and found a key piece of evidence. It was a three foot tall sign that said "Joe's Used Car Lot" (or something to that effect). Turns out it was just an advertisement for Joe to line his pocket at the expense of raising false hope for out-of-towners who forget to print out there maps and get lost very easily. The good news is, though, that I confirm the Road So Obvious It Doesn't Need a Sign, US70, and Sam Houston Somethingorother are all the same road.

So I drive back down The Road With Many Names very, very slowly looking for the address I remembered offhand (2504, or 2405, of 2045 or 2054... maybe 4502... no, no, definitely 2504). First of all, I'd like to say that even though I am a libertarian in most respects, if I was a mayor I would pass a law saying that every building must have the address in big, gawdy white letters so that out of towners know where the hell they are address-wise. We can call it the Road Rage Minimilization Act because driving five miles an hour trying to decipher itty bitty address signs (where they exist!)on TRWMN brings out the rage in just about everyone else. And, without such laws, no one is inclined to put a sign with big gawdy white letters on it because they figure if they're the establishment you're looking for, you don't need to know the address and, you know GOD FORBID THEY ACTUALLY ASSIST DRIVERS TRYING TO LOCATE ANOTHER ESTABLISHMENT! They reason that there is no way anyone would ever want to find another address on The Road So Big And Busy It Has Three Names Four Including This One. Arrogant bastards.

However, despite the self-centered actions of the greedy establishments who forgo the white letters: Suddenly, there it is! Have you ever seen the movie The Shadow where concentrating hard enough makes this invisible hotel that the Asian baddude made invisible visible again? It was SO like that! Suddenly visible where it wasn't visible before. Might have had something to do with the whole driving 5mph on TRSBABIH3N4ITO.

But I digress. I pull into the parking lot and lo' and behold, there are no spots available. So I drive out and find a parking spot. I get out and before walking five steps, realize I need to go by the ATM. As I pass a Jack-in-the-Box I realize that I should probably grab a bite to eat so that I don't eat too much crawfish at $5 a bin. So I grab a bite to eat and track down a convenience store. For a road that busy, I am surprised at how few convenience stores there are. I swipe my card and it comes back with an error. I ask the clerk if there is anything wrong with the machine and he says there is not.

So I track down another store with an ATM. Error.

Well crap. I only have $5. I go to the Jolly Fox and ask them if I can pay with a credit card and they say they don't have a machine. I ask if I can go inside and pay and be right back out (I offer to leave my drivers license!) and he says that they're too busy to deal with a special request like that (and, in their defense, they are quite busy). So I go back to the second convenience store and ask if I can have them run my credit card through and give me some cash (and volunteer to buy something in the process). The fact that he denied my request wasn't odd. The way that he looked at me like I was the absolute scum of the earth was a bit offputting, though.

So I go to the other convenience store and make the same request. Again, denied but with a very, very dirty look.

I find a third convenience store and make the request yet again, against my better judgment. He not only declines and gives me a dirty look, he says "No, and if you don't want to buy something you need to go."

So I finally ask "why not?"

He said that "you kids never stop pulling this scam."

"This what? Look, I'm not asking anything of you anymore. I just want to know why I'm getting all these weird looks. I'm not from around here."

So he explains to me what's going on. Apparently it is common practice for college students in Huntsville (which, for those of you that don't know, is largely a college town populated with Sam Houston State University students) to run up their parents credit cards to get cash for binge drinking or other nefarious things. When their parents get $300 bills for what's supposed to be a gas card, they fire off letters to the gas stations who, though they get their money, have to deal with some irate parents they'd rather not have to deal with. Thus, he explained, establishments in and around Huntsville don't grant anyone the benefit of the doubt when it comes to cashing credit cards.

On my way out I see a lady ruffling through her purse at the pump. I start trying to explain to her my predicament to see if I can get $7 of cash off her for a full tank, but before I can finish I hear a tapping on the window from the convenience store. I look back and the clerk is giving me an eviller look than all of the evil looks I'd seen thus far.

Tired of evil looks, I just said "t'hell with it" and get back in my car.

"Hi Old Sam Houston Rd. Bye Old Sam Houston Rd!"

As I drive back down I45, I almost have to slam on the breaks. "What's the hold up?" I ask myself. Then I remember what I didn't see earlier. "The good news," I said to myself, "is that I'll finally get to see what's keeping up traffic... at this rate, in only two hours!"