After we left the train station, Matt and I decided to punch in the address to the Inn/Hotel on the GPS and head there to relax for a bit (We like to call the GPS our "Guups"). And as usual with all the road trips that Matt and I have been on, we manage to find a low income part of town. I swear every time we go to a different town on a little trip we manage to find at least one little section of hood. For example, We decided to drive around and look at the old antebellum homes in Savannah Georgia one time we went to visit. We are all, "ewww… Ahhhh… look at that one!" and then we get to the end of the street and make a turn and BAM! Ghetto! What the heck!
Anyhow… back to the Chattanooga story. The Guups sent us straight into a lower income part of town, it wasn't completely ghetto, but it wasn't exactly somewhere we wanted to visit. We just drove along aimlessly following the Guups directions and commands. We were stopped at a light, when we heard an extremely loud pop followed by what sounded like crackling. Matt ducked, I pop up and stiffen and start looking around. I'm looking for a rock, a bullet hole, some point of impact or entry. I was sure we had been hit by something. Then we hear the spewing and hissing. Matt had left two cans of coke in the back seat of my tiny car. During our train ride, they had apparently gotten really hot. Which led to them exploding at just that moment. After our heart rates lowered to a functioning level, we surveyed the damage in the back seat. The mess wasn't that big. But as for the butt puckering factor… I give this one a 10! It scared the Hell out of us.
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