return, the drama

For all the fucking years I've traveled you'd think I'd have a lid on travel drama.

No.

Saturday morning I was scheduled to leave at 830 am with D and his dad. I woke up at 6 so I could say goodbye to Ez. I woke up, went into the bathroom to pee, and noticed the toilet was a bit sluggish when I flushed it. Then I turned on the tap so I could brush my teeth.

No water. NO FUCKING WATER.

Luckily I always have a full bottle of water with me at all times so I was able to brush my teeth. Then I put on some clothes and went down to our party room to see what was going on. As we later found out, a neighbor down the mountain accidentally cut the water line. So the kitchen crew was like "no water until tonight".

I was like FUCKING FUCKING FUCK. I did not want to fly for 7 hours without having a shower. I ended up talking everyone into "bathing" in the swimming pool, which was, in the early morning, full of dead cicadas.

CR has some big fucking cicadas

Then I took a taxi with D and his dad back to San Jose airport. It was a four hour drive. I got to the airport 5 hours before my flight so after checking my luggage decided to read outside. Then around 3 pm I went through security and decided to have a beer at the bar (pain killer - my legs were in serious pain). The bar was empty so I sat at the far end close to the wall. As I was drinking my beer 3 red necks from Mississippi came in. They had been fishing and were also heading home. Of course they sat right next to me.

One of them tried to engage me in a conversation but I ignored him. Then he offered to buy me a beer. The stereo in the bar was tuned to a "light jazz" station. I was like "no thanks, I don't need another beer" but he kept insisting. Finally I was like "NO THANKS (asshole)" Just then that hall and oates song came on "I can't go for that" came on so he took the opportunity to improvise the lyrics:

"IiiiiiiiiiiI just want to buy her a bee-eeeeeeeeeee-eer
But she can't go for that
oh no, no can do
she can't go for that, can't go for that, CAAAAAAAAAN'T"

And that continued on through the whole song. I never realized how long that song was...

Meanwhile, back in Denver, the neighbor who dropped me off at the airport said he would also pick me up. He asked that I send him a reminder to pick me up. I sent him an email on Monday with my return flight itinerary.

Neighbor: Cool, see you Friday!
Me: I don't get in until Saturday. I'll send you a reminder on Friday and then text you when I get to Houston on Saturday to let you know if the flight to Denver is on time.
Neighbor: K, see you Friday!
Me: No, my flight is on Saturday. I will send you a reminder on Saturday when I get into Houston.
Neighbor: Sounds good. See you Friday!

Of course I thought he was fucking with me.

Meanwhile, it turns out, he was not fucking with me. Somehow he got it in his head that I was coming home Friday. So at 11 PM on Friday he goes to the airport to pick me up. I had tried to email him Thursday and Friday but the internet was down.

He kept calling my cell as he drove to the airport but it went straight to voice mail. Upon arriving at the airport, and having not gotten in touch with me, he parked his truck and went into baggage claim, where he correctly located the baggage carousel for my flight. He waited until everyone left and then ran to the United baggage claim counter. The woman working there said "do you have missing luggage?" and he said "no, I have a missing passenger! I think she was kidnapped at the airport!!!"

So she escorted him up to the check in desk (at this point it was 1130 pm so they were all standing around with not a lot to do). My neighbor managed to correctly remember my flight number and that it was out of Houston. They paged me, and when I didn't answer he said "she must have been kidnapped in Houston!!!! call them right away!!!!"

At this point all the United reps were in a tizzy. The woman tried to look up whether or not I had boarded the Houston flight but my crack head neighbor couldn't remember how to spell my last name. Finally he remembered that he had my confirmation code for the flight because I had sent him my itinerary. Too upset to read the number to her, he handed her his phone. She read my email, and then the string of other emails we had exchanged. She looked at my neighbor and said "did you read this email? because she said, in three separate exchanges, that she is not getting in until Saturday".

At that point my neighbor leaned over and said "ssshhhhhh" to the United rep and quietly ran from the counter.

Sheesh.

As if the story could not get any stranger, I texted him when I landed in Houston on Saturday to let him know I got in on time. No response. I texted him that my flight was going to leave on time. No response. Right before take off I texted him saying I had checked a bag so he should wait until I texted him when landing in Denver to leave for the airport so he wouldn't have to wait. No response. I texted when I landed in Denver. No response.

Then, as I was boarding the train to get to the main terminal he called. He was obviously at a bar. And a little tipsy. He said "I'm on my way, I'm at a bar, I forgot I was supposed to pick you up."

Seriously.

I drove home. We had a good laugh about the whole situation.

By the time I got home it was midnight. But my neighbor insisted we have a glass of wine even though I was exhausted from a 4 hour car ride, a 5 hour wait at the airport, and then 7 hours of flying and just wanted to go to bed (funny side note: upon arrival at Houston I was selected by customs for extra security screening and I was freaking out because I had a tight connection - the guy was like "anything to declare?" and I said "yes, I got hit in the nose with a surf board" - he looked at my poor banged up nose and told me I could skip the extra security screening).

I showed him my pictures and showed him one of my surf videos (on a 6 foot wave - he was impressed). Then I told him what I had learned about the science of waves and showed him proper surfing stance. For some reason he thought we should practice our pop ups so I did even though I could hardly move my arms. Finally we finished the bottle of wine and I looked at my watch and it was 3 am. I walked my neighbor home because I was worried he would pass out in the front bushes.

Was up at 845 this morning doing laundry, cleaning, and answering work emails. I wouldn't call my vacation "relaxing" but who wants to fucking relax...