Night Life in Fort Smith

As we headed west through Arkansas the landscape changed a little. Some places were actually pretty and I was trying to keep in mind that we were seeing it from the interstate. It became quite hilly and the sun was setting over a lake that we sped past. Kristen called us while we were stretching our legs at a scenic overlook. Things were looking up. Maybe Arkansas was not as bad as we thought.

We approached Fort Smith and, seeing as I refused to spend the night in Oklahoma, and since the Motel 6 was on THIS side of the state line, we stopped for the night. We were both in the mood for a burger. Mmmm....burger... Now, we could have walked across the street from our motel and had one at McDonalds, but it was early on a Friday night in the city. Plus, we could get McD's anywhere - the only thing we might find different in Arkansas was that their McDonald's burgers had more employee spit. We decided to explore a bit further down the road. There had to be somewhere else to go. We drove around and Dame Judy was basically telling us our options were Mickey D's or The Mall. Our tummies were growling and The Mall was looking pretty good. It's a mall, there has to be something.

After circling the parking lot, we decided to check out this restaurant called "Garfield's." Nothing to do with a fat orange cat. It was actually a lot like a TGI Friday's or Applebee's. Our waitress was a seemingly normal girl named Berta. We found out later that she wasn't an Arkansas native (hence the normalcy) but was actually from California, and moved here when she was 15 (even though she looked to be only 18 at this point). We made drawings on the paper tablecloths with the crayons she provided while we waited for our food to arrive. Dinner was fine, although we ended up with a dessert that was mostly ice cream, even though the name implied that it was something else - a torte?

After dinner, we walked around the mall, looking for a place to buy new batteries for the digital camera (hence the lack of photos). We found a Radio Shack, with a typical Arkansan behind the counter. We asked for two rechargeable batteries for a digital camera, and he was about to give us the standard AA alkaline batteries. "No," we said, "we need something rechargeable, that won't die immediately in the camera." Then he pulled a four-pack of rechargeables from the wall and offered it up. He was getting warmer - those were the right KIND of batteries, now we just need the right number: two. He told us that four was the smallest pack he had, to which we replied, "Um, can we have that two-pack, it's just to the right of the four-packs." Oh. Yeah.

Then we went looking for a grocery store, particularly to buy a big jug of bottled water. We didn't want to be drinking whatever Mr. Shack had. I like knowing the difference between two and four, and being able to see things in front of me. I went into the store while Kurt waited in the car, continuing a phone call with Momma and The Commander. Kurt had finished his call by the time I came running back to the car, jug in hand. I hopped in the car and said, "Get me out of here!"

I can't take it! Everyone around here is so slow. Everyone in the store seemed to be out of shape, pregnant, retarded, or all of the above. I have to get away from these people! I calmed down after a little while, and then I had an epiphany: these are the people that NEED those tags they put on hairdryers. You know, the ones that warn you not to use them in the bathtub? Or the "Caution: Contents May Be Hot" on the coffee cups. It is all making sense now. OK, so maybe this isn't entirely fair. It's a little like judging the whole of Delaware based on a drive-through experience in Selbyville (another little town on the border of two states). I mean, Arkansas can't be all bad. There's the Clinton Library... and let's not forget Toad Suck Park!