That Broasted Chicken Dinner

What is it about long car trips? It's like you've never smelled worse. It's like you ate an "Italian style" footlong (that's "eye-talian"), went running/cartwheeling/hot yoga-ing, and then didn't shower...for three days. How does that smell from the backseat happen?
You've also never felt worse. What happened? Oh...that Broasted Chicken Dinner happened. At that diner. In that town of 100 people. It was delivered to your table by Doris. And the CHEESE bread happened. So did onion rings. Snacks for the car ride. Coffee, lots of it. But it does nothing, so you're just tired with gut rot.
Then when you get to your destination; it's more anticlimactic than a fishing trip with Uncle Dave and his coin collecting stories..
For example you drive an incredibly long way to go to a raptor center...
Instead of being in awe of what fantastic creatures these birds of prey are; all you can imagine the birds doing is ripping the flesh of your trip-mates off with those talons.
"Do these birds go for the jugular?", you wish worry to yourself.

This is why I travel alone. My friends ask: "Aren't you scared?" "Isn't that dangerous?"
Possibly. That's part of the reason I do it.