Mackinac Bridge

When I arrived at work this morning a rather unusual conversation was occurring. A women engineer had said, “After I pump gas, I always use hand sanitizer, because you never know where that nozzle has been.” An engineer suggest using gasoline to sterilize the pump handle, which sounded dangerous. Another male engineer responded, “I don’t worry about pumping gas, but I do worry about using a public restroom, because you don’t know what people have been doing in there. “What do you think that people do in a bathroom”, I thought, but did not voice. Both of these statements struck me as rather odd, especially coming first thing in the morning. Maybe it’s just me though. I feel like I’m having a tougher time than normal getting back into the swing of things at work, after this last long vacation. Today and yesterday have both gone by in a blur. Tomorrow should be different, travel is always an adventure. While this morning’s overheard conversation was punctuated with seemingly clueless statements, none of them rose to the level of cluelessness that occurred on the last day of our Michigan bike trip. Here we had been bicycling for a week to the Mackinac Bridge and on the very day that we were scheduled to arrive into Mackinac City a woman, a fellow biker, overheard Anne and I anticipating our arrival at the bridge. Her question was, “What bridge?”