So I’ve been meaning to start my blog, due to a great experience I had two Saturdays ago with some friends of mine from Connecticut.
Christine and Rick were in town for a few days for Rick’s job, and we had a free Saturday to spend together. Like any Phoenician would do, I took them to Sedona for the day and lied that the entire state is like that. They were staying at a hotel off the 17 on Camelback, so obviously, they didn’t buy it. They did, however, absolutely love the Sedona area; being hikers, they loved the red rocks and greenery, juxtaposed with those funky post-hippy houses that look like Mork’s spaceship. We spent the day hiking the Bell Rock Pathway and shopping in all of the chain stores that look like they are unique to Sedona. In my weakness, I went to the Three Dog Bakery, and got little Suzy a carrot cake and two iced gingerbread men. They put them in little Chinese to go boxes – isn’t that cute?
After dining at a gringo little Mexican spot, we decided to head back home. Rick napped in the back while Christine and I chatted away. We came across the sign for the Amish Restaurant. Christine pointed to the sign and was like, "what the hell?" I shrugged and said, "See? That’s proof even Amish men won’t stop to ask for directions..."
After a while, Christine asked if we could stop in Black Canyon City to get some water. I told her if we saw a sign for a gas station we would get off. Sure enough, we saw a sign for a Chevron station. We took the exit and followed the arrows. It was on this road right off of the freeway. We pulled in, and the majority of the parking lot was gravel. Christine looked at the shack pretending to be a store and said, "ehh, I’m scared!" I told her I felt a little concerned as well. Rick woke up and got out of the car with us. I locked my door, then realized this was the kind of place where if you can’t hitch your house or your horse, chances are, it won’t get stolen. We opened the door and stepped in the store. Now, you know the part in old Western movies where the out-of-town guy steps in the saloon, the music stops, everyone stops talking and stares at him? Yeah, it was kind of like that. Except replace the drunken cowboys with the cast of Deliverance. We quietly edged our way to the back of the store to get drinks. Christine grabbed a water, I grabbed a Yoo-Hoo. Nothing is more threatening than a Yoo-Hoo, believe me.
We took our drinks up to the front counter, where the girl was finishing up with another customer. I soaked up the atmosphere for a moment. After looking around I nudged Christine and gestured to the wall behind the counter. The entire back wall was covered with rifles, kitanas, sai, bows, arrows, handguns, fantasy swords and Medieval weapons. For sale. They had some practical signs as well, such as the traditional black signs with orange print emblazoned with the words "No Hunting on Premises" and "Beware of Dog." Christine then nudged me and gestured to the case below the register. To complement the weaponry on the walls, there was a nice little collection of knives, daggers, weapon breakers and the like. I was wondering what Rick was thinking, but apparently, he was busy reading a bumper sticker stating preference for anal sex. I paid for my drink, wondering what a Yoo-Hoo was doing in a place like this, and slowly made it for the door. Once we got outside, we kind of looked at each other and picked up the pace to my car. Once in the car and out of harms way, Rick shared with us all the bumper stickers he read, and commented, "I bet they had a Gimp in the back..." I smiled and said, "welcome to Arizona!"