labor day is for lovers

The following is based on a true story...

Saturday night, driving home from a Cougar season kick-off party:

Clint: So, what would you like to do for the rest of the night?

Me: Probably drive to New Orleans.

Clint: Okay.

2 hours later...

Clint: Looks like New Orleans is going to flood this weekend.

Me: Dang it. (Now sulking on the bed like a child.)

Clint: San Antonio?

Me: Okay!

12 hours later...

 

Isn't San Antonio enchanting?

(Yes, yes it is.)

We thought so, too.

Except that one time when it was time to stop being tourists for the day and we went to reside in our Super 8 motel, which we picked out especially for its excellent price and good customer reviews (relatively) and proximity to the Riverwalk (except it wasn't approximately by the Riverwalk, actually), and in which we found 2 mutant-huge flies, 1 spider, 1 bug of questionable nature, 4 hairs of different colors in the sheets, 0 DVD players, and 1 very drunk man named Mikey (from Pegasus) who happened to be knocking on our door at 2 a.m. and gave me nightmares for the remainder of the sleeping hours. Seriously, I shook like a leaf for a couple of hours. Couldn't tell whether it was largely due to the fact that an intoxicated gentleman of unknown origin had banged on the door for 5 minutes straight or that I'd just finished a Route 44 Diet Coke with a shot of vanilla about 30 minutes prior. But once in a while Clint would open his eyes and kiss me on my shaky little head and tell me it was going to be okay. Mikey wouldn't come back. And even if he did, he couldn't get in. I had my doubts about that considering there was a ginormous window a few feet away from our bed that could easily be broken by a thug with sinister purposes. Had I been clever enough to immediately look up what Pegasus was, instead of dreaming up all sorts of scenarios in which Pegasus was a gang name and our friend Mikey would show back up at our door with several Pegasus pals who all had tats of flying horses on their over-sized biceps, I would have realized that Mikey was there to be a lover not a fighter. Poor guy was probably wondering why his man-friend wouldn't answer the door and why he called security to kindly escort Mikey from the premises after being so friendly with him at the bar down the street.

Right?

The strangest part of the whole experience is that it is not the first time we have had holy-random-middle-of-the-night encounters.

Ortega Highway, CA: Pitch black in the AM hours. Camping under the stars. Car pulls up to the lot across the small ravine from us. Man gets out. Man proceeds to make loud noises for 15 minutes. Man then proceeds to bang on a full drum set for an hour. Man packs up drum set and drives around the campground towards the exit. Man gets to our campsite, rolls down his window and yells, "Thank you, California!!!"

I was not a happy camper.

Maui, HI: 10:30 pm. Just starting to doze off. Have to be up early to fit in all the fun stuff going on on our last day in Maui. Phone rings. "There's a tsunami coming toward the island. Gather only the things you can't lose and head for emergency shelter. Quickly." We spent the rest of the night and the next morning in a war memorial gymnasium.

Life is rough, ya know?

And that's traveling without kids. Can't wait to see what's in store for us when we have little Thurbitos trucking around with us.

Yep, that's what's up!

And in other news, I found a new dentist! And he told me I do not have a Diet Coke drinking problem, I do not grind my teeth, and I do not have 6 cavities.

I knew it couldn't be true. Thank you, Second Opinion Dentist.