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Apparently, the regular restaurant staff is on their Christmas holiday, and we are the only customers in the restaurant. The very first words of our waitress are "Help me, I do not know what I am doing." She is probably some hotel maid without no experience as waitress. Soon after trying to communicate her our orders we realise that there is no one in the kitchen either. The lady will be our cook, too. The outcome is horrible.
Worse yet, more people enter the restaurant. It is a mess. We soon escape this unfortunate scene fully understanding that the situation must be more difficult to the waitress-cook-lady than it is to us. It actually leaves us amused by these odd circumstances. We then continue to Vicksburg, another dead town in Mississippi, where we stay overnight in Relax Inn Motel.
Next morning we continue north still following the Mississippi river. Weather is evenly and boldly grey. Somewhere around Dyersburg, Tennessee we have the last dining experience worth of an anecdote, if you wish, at the Catfish Gallery: it takes us some effort to peel the deep fried shrimps and catfish filets out of their breading, and they are still not worth of it. Together with dusk we enter the freezing zone in Kentucky. While the snow covered landscape induces some luminousness, the road becomes dangerously sleek and slippery, and the driver and the passenger sleepy. Within the first hours of Wednesday morning we pass fascinating southwestern Indiana small towns, Huntingburg and Jasper, and, at least in dark, mysterious hilly forests. Once again, we arrive at Bloomington early morning to return the car well before deadline.
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