On the way back we ran into a rain storm you wouldn't beleive that started in Texarkana.
A few miles into Arkansas the windsheild wipers started slowing down and kept getting slower and slower, making it difficult to see. We were both hungry and decided to stop at the next town to grab a bite and see what the problem with the wipers were. That town happened to be Hope.
We pulled off I-30 and stopped at a fast food joint next door to a filling station, grabbed a burger and waited for the rain to abate, which it didn't.
Nephew Kyle decided he would bring the van as close to the door of the near empty Burger King as he could so I wouldn't drown getting in. Neither of us had foul weather gear, only caps. He ran to the van, I waited...and waited. After a bit he came back in. "I found the problem with the wipers," Kyle declared. "The battery is dead."
"Shouldn't be a problem," says I. "I have jumpers. All we need is someone to give us a jump."
We both walked up to the manager, who looked like a nice fellow, and explained our plight.
He looked at us and said nothing. Just turned his back to us and tried to look busy. We asked an employee for help and again we were ignored.
I went to a table, took off my cap and sat down in disgust. In a few minutess Kyle came back with a big pastic trash can bag which he was going to use as a pancho, sat down and proceeded to cut a hole for his head in it.
Rain was still comming down in buckets when Kyle started laughing.
"What's so funny," I asked.
"Look at your cap," he said.
I looked and started laughing too. The cap I had grabbed to keep rain off my glasses when we came in is a favorite of mine. Across the front is emblazoned, "DON'T BLAME ME. I DIDN'T VOTE FOR THE DOPE FROM HOPE!"