I turned 50 on October 6, 2012. My wife surprised me about three weeks before, during a particular low spot in my life with a piece of paper. Happy birthday, she said. I opened the paper and quickly scanned it.
We re going on a cruise? I said, and my mind kind of shut down with happiness after that. In fact, it wasn t until several minutes later, as I was refolding the paper, that I saw the word Greece and just about shit. This is the story of what happened on that trip, taken almost exclusively from the diary I kept along the way.
I had a realization on the highway as we headed toward the airport and felt my heart drop to my stomach. We d ensured the kids were well provided for, kissed and hugged them (probably too much) and left. But, more than a half-hour hotels in daytona florida away from the house, I realized something horrifying and turned to the Wife. Oh my God, I forgot to say goodbye to Maxx!
Maxx is my dog. We ve had him about nine years and I ve walked him twice a day, picked up his crap, taken him to the vet, fed him, bathed him etc since we got him. You could say I m his primary caregiver. And, in my excitement to leave, I forgot to say goodbye to him.
We got to the airport, got through the baggage lines and then went to the appropriate gate to wait for the plane. We were ridiculously early, hotels in daytona florida but I d rather be early than late. However, I had put in a full day of work as the Wife did the final packing hotels in daytona florida and getting us ready for a week away. So, when I basically unplugged from work at about 4:00, we were pretty much good to go and left about 90 minutes later. hotels in daytona florida For a flight at about 10 pm. Yeah.
Anyway, we re sitting waiting for the plane and the Wife jokes about throwing me off the ship s balcony so she can upgrade to a hot Italian or Greek guy. It ll be easy, she says as she leans over and pats my belly. You re top heavy.
At one point, I figured I d go get my last hit of good old Canadian coffee hotels in daytona florida from Tim Horton s. It was a long walk from our gate, but I figured with the all-night flight, I could use it, and God knows I had the time. So I finally found it, got in line behind three other patrons. The line moved at a glacial pace and it was then that I realized that each of these morons refused to take that fifteen minutes of time standing in line to actually figure out what the fuck they wanted , choosing instead to wait until they walked up to the cashier and only then decide to read the entire hotels in daytona florida menu board in great detail before making their decision. hotels in daytona florida Yes, I became rather vocal and spoke loudly of morons to the person waiting behind me. Yes, I m that person.
One the plane, we re in the middle section of three seats, with me in the middle, the Wife to my right and a nice enough hotels in daytona florida guy to my left. But then there s the goddamn woman directly in front of me who stows her luggage, sits down and immediately kicks the seat back. The stewardess comes along and tells her to keep it upright until the seatbelt signs go off. As we leave the ground and I mean literally as the wheels leave the ground, she kicks the goddamn seat back again.
But that isn t the worst. About every two to three minutes, she reaches up, grabs a wad of her big, curly hair, fluffs it, then tosses it back over the headrest, pretty much into my face. Every. Two. Minutes.
A side note on the meals. The first one was some sort of chicken and pasta. It tasted all right, but the chicken was as hard as plastic and the cheese at one side had morphed into an impenetrable glob of cold, hardened lava. There was some sort of cake thing that I believe was supposed to be spongey, but it was more coral-like. This meal was brought to you by the word, hard.
There s the three older women beside the fluffer. One on our side of the aisle, two on the window side. They come on and proceed to cackle like three old witches in a Greek tragedy. As soon as the seatbelt sign goes out, they re up and pulling bags from the overhead bins. Then they re down and cackling. Then they re up again. Down and cackle. Up and grabbing. Goddamn.
This entry was posted in Family , Humorous , Morons and tagged 50 , airport , birthday , boob , coffee , Continental breakfast , coral , cruise , diary , dog , Europe , fifty , flight , fluffer , Greece , Greek tragedy hotels in daytona florida , hard , highway , Italy , lava , Maxx , Men In Black , morons , october 6 , pet , prepackaged , stewardess , The Wife , Tim Hortons , witch by Tobin Elliott . Bookmark the permalink .
Fifty? No. Really. Fifty? You re a puppy. Airports and airline travel used to be the least of people s travel worries. But with all of the pre-boarding and security checks, I m not surprised your first post has barely made lift-off. Just picturing the hair flipper and the greek cacklers makes me sorry for your start. I know good things are coming.
Yeah, they were pains in the ass, but hey, I was with Karen and we were having fun. And that last pic above is the last one of me pre-50. Hell, I turned fifty years old over the Atlantic Ocean. That s kind of epic.
Karen looks lovely. I married a hot Italian. hotels in daytona florida He also dresses like a fourteen year old boy in nostalgic 70's T's. That's what's so exhausting. I guess it's too much to ask to come before the dog and the Beatles
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