Customer Service: Sweet or Sour?

Well, last Friday I happily packed up for a little road trip to Cape Breton. I was headed home to see an old friend and celebrate (without grace or dignity) her milestone birthday of hitting the big 4-0 with about 99 or so of our closest friends gathered in her brother's kitchen. Now, anyone from a rural upbringing in the Maritimes understands how this is accomplished and also understands how the basement of any house can be transformed into a rocking dance floor just as the back deck becomes an extension of the kitchen and is considered usable living space, even in winter. If you don't know what for, you can't possibly have reached the age of majority yet, so please don't ask; you are still an innocent!


I left the farm fully equipped for the five hours of driving ahead of me. I had coffee and clean clothes and my wallet. All I ever need on a road trip are these three little things. Cell phone? Those are for the faint of heart GPS? Who needs one? I know how to read the big green signs so strategically placed at just the right spots along the highways of Nova Scotia. I traveled for years without a map to all kinds of little out-of -the-way places that no one's ever heard of and have never had trouble finding my destination. There's always someone at the local gas station that knows the way. And besides, this is Nova Scotia - Everyone is friendly here!

The day was bright and the roads were dry. Perfect February driving weather! The radio chirps and babbles, I sip my coffee and watch as the traffic roars along the highway, getting off here and there. Counting cops is one my fave things to do on a road trip. I met 13 of them on my travels this particular day. I was on a bit of a tight schedule and needed to be in Bras d'Or before 6pm. Very important party to get to that night, ya know! After spending an unscheduled 45 minutes in the horse paddock up to my knickers in a snowdrift adding a little extra security to the side gate (that means tying it closed with a rope) before actually getting to do any road tripping, I thought it best to make my stops few, but not too far between.


A little better than an hour into the drive and I've encountered nothing of significance. So far, so good. No accidents. No ambush type spot checks. I flew past the Truro exit and followed the ramp to Hwy 104 East. Homeward bound and no traffic in sight. WoooHooo! Smooth sailing. By this time it was well past midday and the sun was showing me my own shadow. Cute or what?!?

Oh, OK! So what if all I could see was the outline of a Toyota Corolla that didn't even belong to me? Yes, it was the Granny model, but what did I care? I was going to a party tonight! Life was good. Life was really good! Except, I needed to pee. I could hold it though. No problem. I'm a trooper when it comes to road trips and I know how it's done. No more sipping till I found a place to relieve myself and then everything would be fine. Just keep driving to the next exit. No worries. I guess taking Exit 22 is out of the question since I just drove by it! Ha! Ha!

Have you ever noticed that almost all highways look the same? Same white dotted lines in the middle. Same solid white line on the right. Same solid yellow line on the left. Same green signs telling us the next pee stop is only 14km away! Have you ever calculated how long it takes to drive 14kms at 120km/hr? I can tell you that it takes approximately 7 minutes and I swear, if you tell the cops how fast I was going, I'll will find you and introduce your arse to my barn boot!

Exit 21 - no services! Dammit! This is not good. How do you spell emergency? Ask any woman and she will tell you P-E-E! Who is responsible for the redesign of this highway, anyway? Did no one consider the need to pee? No worries, just keep going. Breathe deeply. Exit 20 - Service Loop! Cha Ching - Jackpot!

I veer off the highway and roll through the stop sign (don't tell the cops, 13 of them could have stopped me that day, but didn't) and hang a left toward the services on the service loop. Almost immediately, like a Rembrandt rising over the earth, overflowing with the promise of love and desire the lusty Coast Gas sign appears out of nowhere on the right hand side of the road. It's the sign of relief. It's the promise of not having to introduce my hiny to a snowbank for the second time that day. It's civilization and a porcelain toilet! As I come to a screeching halt in front of the building, I have the car keys in my pocket before the engine stops humming. Exploding from the car, I gun it for the front door. Once inside, I look around and ask the good fellow behind the counter where the washroom is. Now, I'm sure I can detect a little smirk on his face as he responds "It's for customer use only"

What exactly does one say to that? I'm in total shock! The man had me 'over the toilet tank' so to speak. I would have paid him almost any price to use the can. It didn't have to be a thrown, a simple bucket would have sufficed. No tissue required either – I would have happily used the crumpled up old Kleenex in the bottom of my coat pocket from last winter's Swine Flu season. When I asked if he was joking, he was very quick to reassure me that the washrooms in that fine, grease-laden establishment were most definitely for “customer use only.” I shared with him my new (and unholy) name for him and left – without becoming a customer!

Screeching from the parking lot, I headed east on the Service Loop in Pictou County. I was a little worried about having to pull over and make that chilly introduction to the snowbank. I wanted to avoid that if at all possible. Time seemed to be standing still as I wiggled in my seat. Maybe if I pray? “Dear God in Heaven! Just send me a bathroom!” OK, I'm a little rusty on that score. No one's perfect!

Turn after turn on the so-called service loop produced nothing. It was a barren landscape of empty white promises casting dreary shadows of despair. Nothingness! No cars. No houses. No businesses. No civilization. A sea of white banks on either side of the road stretched on for what seemed like miles. I could almost hear the noisy yellow plow barreling through in the dead of night to clear the way for all those in need of services on the Service Loop, but yet there was no sign of life. And then, Oh, Blessed be! The Lord loved me after all. Happy Harry's was before me!

Again, screeching to a halt, I bounded out of the car as if being propelled from a slingshot. I entered the 10x10 showroom to find a lady comfortably resting the right hand portion of her rump roast on a pallet of hardwood flooring, one foot swinging lazily to and fro in that nonchalant, I'm a little bored now that lunch is over, kind of way.

I looked at her with desperation in my eyes, my legs crossed and my hands folded as if about to pray and said “Please! Tell me you have a bathroom I can use!”

Her foot stopped swinging. Her lips pursed together like a nasty school teacher that spent too many nights picking pink Bublicious gum out of her badly permed hair. Her arms folded together like protective armour over her chest. Her eyebrows arched over a set of beady black eyes as they narrowed and targeted my own pleading, blue orbs. She shook her head in disgust, looked down her nose at me and said “We don't have a public bathroom.” For the second time in less than 20 minutes I unceremoniously baptized someone with an unholy name and left.

I didn't know a Corolla could move quite as fast as I was pushing the one I was driving. Tires spinning and snow flying up behind me, I pulled back out onto the Service Loop in search of a toilet. Never before have I felt like dropping my pants in public, and in that moment of need and total desperation I don't know what held me back. I kept driving. 120km/hr in an 80km/hr zone is a little excessive, I admit, but when Mother Nature is calling you must run to answer. Turn after turn I kept hoping until finally, there it was in all its glory – IRVING. Oh blessed IRVING. Not just a toilet; a clean toilet! Now, if I can just get from the car to the porcelain thrown inside the building without leaving a trail of …. well, you know!

Long story short, I made it! Phew! I even stayed long enough to fill up on a burger and some fresh coffee. I know, I know! Coffee is what started this whole thing to begin with. It's just not a road trip without coffee to sip on.

Fast forward a few hours and I've arrived at my destination after enjoying the scenery between Pictou County and Bras d'Or. I must say, approaching the Seal Island bridge is rather breath taking.

I get settled in Dad's Motel, change clothes and head for town in search of a birthday gift for the guest of honour. Dollar store is always good for the gag gift - Check. Now on to the more serious 'I really am your good friend' gift. I checked out a few of the little boutique type stores and didn't find what I was looking for. On a whim, I walk through the big box store, expecting to find nothing, when, surprise the manure outta me, they have the perfect little gift. And, I could have kissed the girl working in the department she was so fabulous! I needed gift wrap and she had some tissue paper. I had to do the wrapping myself, but the sweet little thing found scissors and tape for me to use. While I wrapped and she rang up my purchase, we had a nice little chat about my experiences of the day and just what customer service really means!

Oh, and by the way, the party was fantastic!