Missouri fails to play nice

I'm sitting in the parking lot of WalMart, which means the trip has sunk to a new low.

Also, I hate Missouri.

The last time I was here, I was meeting the family of my then-fiancé. Granted, the trip itself was fine, but everything that followed in the relationship left a bad taste in my mouth, and I've been viewing the Missouri leg of this trip with some trepidation. It's some sort of karmic superstition thing.

Strike one: we stop for gas outside Kansas City. A woman in a banged-up car and a loud tank top accuses my mom of backing into, and denting, her car. (Mom didn't.) Loud tank top won't take no for an answer, and I'm pretty sure she'd come out the better in a fight. I wander over... for what, I'm not sure. Emotional support, maybe. We extricate ourselves and beat a hasty retreat, wondering what happened to basic civility.

Strike two: Kansas City gridlock and interstate construction slow us down for hours. Hours of hot, horn-honking, exhaust-sucking madness. There's no way we're going to make St. Louis in time to pitch camp before dark. We opt for a state park just off I-70, only to find "road closed - no detour." We get friendly alternate directions from the friendly man at the friendly gas station... and wind up on a gravel road in the middle of a corn field. At this point, we're busting out laughing, because what else are you gonna do? We finally find the park, and it turns out to be quite nice, although filled with large and alarmingly friendly bugs. I consider giving Missouri a second chance.

We've been on the road an hour or so the next morning when my phone rings. Strike three has occurred. A deer who is either suicidal or in possession of a very poor sense of timing has launched itself at the van, obliterating the left side mirror and shattering the driver's side window all over my mom. We pull into the next truck stop to re-group. Once we assess that mom is shaken but not seriously injured, I think of the deer, and wonder if I need to do anything. It's like a Dr. Leathers exam question gone terribly, terribly wrong.

You're on a summer road trip in Missouri when your car hits a deer. You are traveling with standard camping gear, but no firearms, and you have left your captive bolt gun at home. The deer is thrashing and in pain, and the State Patrol is busy protecting us from terrorists. What are your options? Please cite the 2000 AVMA Panel Report on Euthanasia in your answer.

We lose three hours picking glass out of the van, transplanting the other side mirror, and hunting down some duct tape and clear plastic. (This is where the WalMart comes in.)

My animals are overheating, my mom has glass in her eye, and I'm 60 miles from my ex-future-in-laws. It's time to get the fuck out of this state.