Where are we now?

Friday, December 6, 2019

The Wichita She Shed

16 October 2019

It's never been my ambition to be in Wichita for a week and a half, but I guess it worked out. I arrived in Wichita well after dark because of my long cut through Fayetteville, then further delayed by picking up a pizza on the way.

So with pizza in hand I enter in the address to the she shed, which it turns out is in an older neighborhood near the airport. The confirmation email reported that per some sort of (new?) AirBnB rule that they are reporting that there are firearms on the property. Okay, this is the midwest, and I'm from a small town where gun-racks in trucks were standard equipment.

Now the listing says it has its own private entry and parking space, but this turns out to be in the back of the alley. By now it is dark dark, and neither the alley nor the backyard is lit, so it's difficult to reconcile the pictures on the listing to what I'm (not) seeing. I'm pretty sure I'm at the right place, but not completely. In addition, there are an unknown number of dogs of indeterminate size making a racket behind the tall wooden fence enclosing the backyard I seem to have to pass through. They are being egged on by additional dogs in the adjacent yard behind a chain link fence.

Now I remember I have a pretty good flashlight is the car door pocket and start using it to figure out where I am by shining into the back yard and across the back of the house when I freeze: dark, dogs, guns on property, flashlight scoping out the backyard of a place I'm not entirely sure is correct.  Suddenly in my mind I see this situation described in the morning news with a tragic end for yours truly. Nope, I'm out of here.

On my way back out of the alley my headlights catch the waddling ass of something roughly large cat sized but with more like a rat tail. Is that a possum? Yeah, we're done here for tonight.

I made a quick reservation at a decent hotel near the airport. I tend to aim a little lower when Heather isn't with me. The shower in the room struck a small blow against tyranny of symmetry.


Thus began my month in Wichita, which according to outside world calendars was still apparently only nine days.

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