perception

fueling speculation—2

. . . continued from fringe (fueling speculation—1)

	Morning weed perfumes the stairway to the coffee-less two-star lobby. Checkout is clerked in a Cheech & Chong T. I sense that this location has taken on a personally enfranchised theme, more indulgent than the rest of the chain.  

Easily emerging south from the I-90 on-ramp, the northern airport off-ramp is at a standstill from a minor bender. A collective idle panic of dwindling boarding times is imagined as a smog hovering over the miles of congestion. 

Crossing the Pennsylvania border, a sign reads The Great American Getaway. Passing drivers are wildly gesticulating alone behind the wheel in seemingly frantic self-defense, so I don’t pull over until Ohio welcomes me with The Heart of it All. I take the bait & gas up at $2.95, but end betrayed a half buck cheaper, eyed just a few exits too late. 

I let the lost bet buy permission to indulge myself with another detour:

New directions.

	I was in Warren OH, first & last, five years before for a look around.  

This afternoon, I return to the library I’d visited there, looking for a librarian I’d met on that initial stop. 

I can’t remember their name, but describe their singular collar-length platinum to someone at the circulation desk. They say he retired & I recall my brief bond with the librarian over Kenneth Patchen. 

The clerk asks for a spelling, taps a keyboard & stares at their screen with, “Patchen. Hmmm. Looks like he was an American poet & novelist,” then offers a map of other regional attractions.

On the way out, I pause at a painted mural missing one of its local luminaries. 

	A gallery in the town square is rumored to house illustrations Patchen created in his later years, but it’s closed today. 

	Last chance for a makeup win, I resort to a previous sure bet & cash-out to-go, chewing along in parking lot & & taking in the lunchtime action like a tailgate picnic matinee.

Yes, I did.

	Before jumping on the I-76, I pass a $2.78/gal. Later, the I-71 even attempts to ensnare me with a second hot dog stopover:Wiener King going all out with a “Funnel Cake Fries” combo near a $2.69er, but I push it. 

Finally, from a productive rivalry: a Love’s $2.52 vs Pilot $2.51 showdown payoff.

	But, at any rate, . . .

. . . wherever or who . . .

. . . perceptions oddly miss, . . .

. . . even fleeting stars occasionally align.

. . . continue on with interval (fueling speculation—3) . . .