Chapter 20: Digging It ... Not!

"Welcome to McDees. May I take your order?"

"Hi, I'd like a David to go, and two coffees," Wendy said.

David looked up from the register. There are moments in life when you have to make a choice. You choose every second, most of those choices aren't career changers ... this one was. He turned to the counter, rang up the PLU (price lookup) button for coffee (not senior) twice and reached under the counter for a cup carrier. David walked over to the coffee machine just as the shift manager stepped through the door.

While the coffee was filling the cups David said to the boss, "Will you fill in for me for 15 minutes. Something came up."

She said, "We're not busy ... there's plenty of counter and drive through help. What's up?"

"I may have a job offer in my degree field," David said. "If that's true, I'll be gone for the summer."

The coffee cups were full, the automatic shutoff kicked in. David placed the lids on and ran his thumb around the top, pressing the lid over the edge and sealing it. The action was as automatic as the shutoff on the coffee machine.

The cups, a thin foam with a plastic liner, slid into the holder and locked into place. It would take a pretty nasty fall to make them pop out of the carrier but a gentle pull would remove them.

The engineering involved in both cup and carrier had taken months to perfect and months of experimentation from all types of people to get that perfect fit. They were so well engineered that coffee cups and 12 ounce drinks went all the way to the bottom of the carrier, 16 and 32 ounce fountain drinks rested on a second shelf and 44 ounce cups fit on a third shelf. Eventually, the industry would design cups with the same size base ... the holders would become 'one size fits all.'

The carriers, made of recycled paper scrap, were 100 percent biodegradable, sanitary, and so cheap the cost of a hundred of them took a penny profit from one cup of coffee. Yet the carrier made it possible for one person to carry 5 coffees in reasonable safety, cutting back on counter crowding.

Fast food needs to be fast or customers leave to go next door to the redhead store.

David slid the carrier, with coffee filled cups, to the counter where Wendy could pick it up. Never hand the carrier with cups or the coffee filled cups to the customer.

The entire procedure took less than 15 seconds from order placement to coffee pickup.

The manager said. "Sure, take off your hat if you stay in the store. If you get the job, I'll see you in the fall."

David gave an enquiring look.

His boss grinned, "I've been expecting this for about ... oh ... ever since you bought that truck ... a week from yesterday. I'll clock you out. If you don't leave, clock in."

"Thanks."

A few minutes later, the shift manager looked up to see David and Wendy seated at one of the window tables, a terrain map between them. They both looked very happy.

Discussion over, Wendy folded up her map, placed the surveying compass in it's little box, bundled up her colored pencils, slid them in the ziplock baggie, put the whole works in her oversize aluminum case and walked out to her sedan delivery.

"Excuse me guys, my truck. I need to get going."

99.9 percent of the people who gawked at her vehicle were just that, gawkers. The point one percent wanted to buy it.

"Sorry, you couldn't afford it. Even if you could, I'd never find another."

Every once in a while, there'd be a persistent attempt and she'd have to explain that it was the ONLY stainless Mercury Sedan Delivery ever built and, yes, it probably belonged in a museum, but it was her camping rig and her baby and she was going to keep it forever.

This time, however, it was the Dodge that had her in a hurry.

"I'll follow you home, David. Are you packed?"

"I have to shut down the apartment. I have to load the camper, hook up the trailer and give the landlord the key. I paid for the summer already. I always pay the summer ahead. Here's my application for employment like you wanted, although I don't really understand why you want it."

"Insurance purposes." She signed the employers line, checked all the boxes and stuck it in an envelope ... already stamped and addressed. "I need to drop this off at the post office. As soon as it's post marked, you're covered... 100 percent."

They stopped at the post office, Wendy waited in line and asked for dated, hand cancel with a receipt from the postal clerk. She got it, turned to David and said, "That's it, you're covered ... Boss."

"Huh?"

"I don't have enough experience at this to conduct a dig ... even on my own land. I've arranged for a Ph.D. principal investigator to visit the site one day a month to collect artifacts and charcoal samples. The main area of the excavation is already surveyed. I want to get this done. My runway is waiting for this to get done so I can pour concrete."

"Boss, huh? How many employees do I have?"

"Just me."

"But you're employing me."

"Oh, that's for 'Wendy Does It. Siding and Windows." She grinned, "A mere formality so I could get you insurance. Excavating, I work for you. When we hang siding, you work for me."

She took four magnetic signs out of her truck, handed David two and stuck two to her truck doors. "Well?" 'Wendy Does it. Com, ' her signs read.

David stuck the two on his doors and away they went. They went to David's garage apartment. First, he opened up the apartment. There was nothing in the propane mini fridge, when you work at the Dee you try and eat anywhere else. He put an open box of baking soda in the fridge, shut off the propane, disconnected and set the bottle out the door. Then he pulled the liner out of the porta potty and sealed it in the five gallon bucket he used to haul his waste to the free dumping station on Waverley road. Closing and locking the door he picked up the propane bottle and the bucket, ran down the outside stairs and knocked on the house next door. The key was soon out of his possession. Then he backed the Dodge under the camper, hooked up the hold downs, hooked up the Featherlite full of tools, Wendy checked the lights while David stepped on brakes and flicked turn signals, it all worked just like you would expect of a professional job.

Wendy leading, they pulled out on Waverley Road and headed south. They stopped at the truck stop, David dumped his five gallon bucket and tossed it in the dumpster.

"I'll get another if I come back."

The Adventure had begun.

Wendy doesn't drive the freeway unless she has no other choice. They took Waverley Road to Lansing Road to Charlotte, Mi. Out of Charlotte to Sand Road, Sand becomes Bellevue Road. Then Bellevue Road to Battle Creek, MI (K-e-l-l-o-double good good, Kellogg's the best to you.) Cut west on Michigan 78 to Michigan 66 and south again until 66 became Indiana 9 ... and a rest stop and dinner.

Wendy brought a map with her. This map was one she drew herself. The route around Chicago was convoluted to the extreme.

"Wendy?" David asked. "Isn't this a complicated way to get around Chicago?"

"If the Ludington to Milwaukee Car Ferry was still in business, we'd go that way. I do not go to Chicago. Chicago is out! The last time I went to Chicago I was 12. I bought a sailboat in Chicago and damn near got killed for doing it. I do not go to Chicago." Wendy was getting herself worked up to a hissyfit. "Don't keep second guessing me. This is how we're going and that's final!"

David got up from the table, walked over to the register, paid for his meal that hadn't been served and walked out.

He had a backpack in the passenger seat of the truck. It had a Sierra Designs Sphinx two man strapped to the side, a 40 below sleeping bag hanging from the bottom, six MRE's in the butt pouch, two changes of clothes, baby wipes, a flint and steel, six pairs of sox...

"David? Please ... you don't understand. I can't go to Chicago. I'm afraid."

"Wendy? I've always loved the back roads of America ... freeways are so impersonal. I don't mind not going to Chicago. I don't mind following you to Colorado. I do mind you trying to run my life. You're not doing a great job with yours.

"There's a little camping area off to the side here. Smell the woodsmoke? I'm going to set up my little tent, roll out my sleeping bag, eat an MRE and sit at the campfire. I'll watch the fire, sing a few songs and meet people. Some of these people are adventuring, too. Who knows? I might find someone who needs a ride west."