This ain’t no shit. I drive back to St Louis Friday night. The traffic is horrendous. I find myself in five, sometimes six, lanes of high speed traffic in the Avis Ford Rollerskate. I arrived at the airport around 7:45 PM. I gassed the car for the low low price of $2.60 per gallon. Back by Columbia I had actually seen gas for only $2.45. I thought that was the lowest I’ve seen it for a long time. It’s pretty bad when we think two and a half dollars a gallon is a bargain. I looked at the dash to see which side of the car the gas take is on. If you look where the fuel gauge is on the dash of the new Rollerskates, as well as other models, you can see a little arrow pointing to the side of the vehicle that receives fuel. I would guess it’s because I travel and rent cars frequently that everyone on the planet has felt compelled to email me this tidbit. If you are reading this and haven’t emailed me this info, I got it. I know about the little gas pump and the arrow.
After gassing the Rollerskate I drove over to the Hilton where I’d be staying the night. The Hilton is very conveniently located at the airport and right next door to the Avis rental center. So I pulled up to the hotel and unloaded my bags. I went and checked in. They want $10 for me to park the car overnight. I ask them if they have a shuttle that runs 24 hours and they say “yes, every 20 minutes on the hour”. Perfect I reply, I will take the car back now and ride your shuttle in the morning. She asks if I’ll be “joining them for breakfast”. Sorry no. I have a 6:00 AM flight.
I lug my bags up to the 9th floor, throw on some jeans, strap on my tennies and go back down to return the car. The walk back from Avis was a little scary in the dark but I made it across the two big parking lots and I was back in the Hilton and situated in my room. First thing I was planning on doing was to check my email that I hadn’t looked at all day. I see the sign on the desk that informs me that for the low price of $9.95 for 24 hours I could have internet service. Sorry…that’s rape and I was resisting.
After all this I’m hungry. So after consulting the Guest Guide I dial up room service. I talked to Matisha or Maresha or Manfeasta or some damn thing. I told her to send up some Maui Maui with Mango Chutney and a house salad please. She said it would be about a half hour. That was at 8:15 PM. So tick tock tick tock I wait. I watch some of the Busch race. Jimmy Johnson crashes. I’m glad. I look, it’s 8:35 PM. I watch some of the Boston game (awesome 10 to 3 win). It’s now 8:50 PM. Tick tock. 9:05 PM I call Marvelesha again. She says “you haven’t got your food yet”? Nope, not here. She’ll check on it. I hold on to find out what she finds out. Dial tone. It would seem that Melantina has hung up on me. Okay…. She’s going to find out what happened and get back to me. NOT. I watch an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. Funny funny show. I’m laughing right out loud. Another half hour goes by. I call again. Murillemeansha answers again. I explain that I’m still waiting for my food and we’re creeping up on an hour and a half. She seems surprised. She asked me if I ordered the Maui Maui. Yep. And the salad? Yes with ranch. And three Heinekens? No Heinekens. Just some water would be nice. Room 963? Yes ma’am. Well she’ll fix this and the food will be right up. She said they had a mix up on room numbers. I told her I was getting pissed, not to mention starved half to death. I also threatened her if it arrived cold I would be additionally pissed. I hang up. The phone rings. It’s Mirtrisha. She’s just checking to see if she had the right room to send my food too. Then a couple minutes later the phone rings again and this time it’s a nice white fellow with the name Paul. I can say Paul. I can spell Paul. I like Paul. He apologizes for the problems and offers to bring me a glass of wine with my dinner as a peace offering. I accept. Red, please. I watch a second episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. This one’s better than the first. I’m laughing my ass off. Larry David is the funniest, stupidest, creativist (not a real word) guy ever. Finally at 10:00 PM Paul arrives with the loot. Yes Maui Maui. The chutney is pineapple not mango. I’ll pretend. The rice is not done. Hard little mouse turds actually. The salad is big and wilted but I dig in. There’s warm hard rolls. I tear off a piece and slather it with butter and chow down. And there’s the wine. It’s not half bad. And then there’s a huge piece of chocolate cake with whipped cream as an additional reward for my patience. The bill was only $37.80. What the hell. Good thing I saved twenty bucks with parking and internet. Finally at 10:30 PM I tuck myself into bed for a nap. My alarm is set for 3:00 AM.
Ring ring. Time to get up. I get ready and leave my room a little after 4:00 AM. When I arrive downstairs, prepared to ride the 4:20 AM shuttle I find out that this time of day the shuttle doesn’t run on any set schedule. What? Where’s my little girlfriend that reassured me that the shuttle ran on schedule 24 hours a day? Don’t worry, they’ll call me one. Sure enough within a few minutes a shuttle came and picked me up. I was in the airport and at the ticket counter by 4:20 AM. Ah but they don’t open until 4:30 AM. So while waiting for an agent, the gentleman beside me strikes up a conversation. He’s a military man. Does recruiting now but has been in the service all his life. He’s on his way to Anchorage to visit 4 of his 5 grandchildren. His wife is already there. Blah blah blah. He feels bad recruiting kids and sending them to Iraq. Not bad for sending them but bad that he doesn’t go with them. He said sometimes they come back wounded. But that some of them consider war wounds badges of honor. And then they have a war story to tell. Then he asks me, “Do you know the difference between a fairy tale and a war story?” “No sir”. “Well a fairy tale starts with Once Upon A Time and a war story starts with “This ain’t no shit”.
After gassing the Rollerskate I drove over to the Hilton where I’d be staying the night. The Hilton is very conveniently located at the airport and right next door to the Avis rental center. So I pulled up to the hotel and unloaded my bags. I went and checked in. They want $10 for me to park the car overnight. I ask them if they have a shuttle that runs 24 hours and they say “yes, every 20 minutes on the hour”. Perfect I reply, I will take the car back now and ride your shuttle in the morning. She asks if I’ll be “joining them for breakfast”. Sorry no. I have a 6:00 AM flight.
I lug my bags up to the 9th floor, throw on some jeans, strap on my tennies and go back down to return the car. The walk back from Avis was a little scary in the dark but I made it across the two big parking lots and I was back in the Hilton and situated in my room. First thing I was planning on doing was to check my email that I hadn’t looked at all day. I see the sign on the desk that informs me that for the low price of $9.95 for 24 hours I could have internet service. Sorry…that’s rape and I was resisting.
After all this I’m hungry. So after consulting the Guest Guide I dial up room service. I talked to Matisha or Maresha or Manfeasta or some damn thing. I told her to send up some Maui Maui with Mango Chutney and a house salad please. She said it would be about a half hour. That was at 8:15 PM. So tick tock tick tock I wait. I watch some of the Busch race. Jimmy Johnson crashes. I’m glad. I look, it’s 8:35 PM. I watch some of the Boston game (awesome 10 to 3 win). It’s now 8:50 PM. Tick tock. 9:05 PM I call Marvelesha again. She says “you haven’t got your food yet”? Nope, not here. She’ll check on it. I hold on to find out what she finds out. Dial tone. It would seem that Melantina has hung up on me. Okay…. She’s going to find out what happened and get back to me. NOT. I watch an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. Funny funny show. I’m laughing right out loud. Another half hour goes by. I call again. Murillemeansha answers again. I explain that I’m still waiting for my food and we’re creeping up on an hour and a half. She seems surprised. She asked me if I ordered the Maui Maui. Yep. And the salad? Yes with ranch. And three Heinekens? No Heinekens. Just some water would be nice. Room 963? Yes ma’am. Well she’ll fix this and the food will be right up. She said they had a mix up on room numbers. I told her I was getting pissed, not to mention starved half to death. I also threatened her if it arrived cold I would be additionally pissed. I hang up. The phone rings. It’s Mirtrisha. She’s just checking to see if she had the right room to send my food too. Then a couple minutes later the phone rings again and this time it’s a nice white fellow with the name Paul. I can say Paul. I can spell Paul. I like Paul. He apologizes for the problems and offers to bring me a glass of wine with my dinner as a peace offering. I accept. Red, please. I watch a second episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. This one’s better than the first. I’m laughing my ass off. Larry David is the funniest, stupidest, creativist (not a real word) guy ever. Finally at 10:00 PM Paul arrives with the loot. Yes Maui Maui. The chutney is pineapple not mango. I’ll pretend. The rice is not done. Hard little mouse turds actually. The salad is big and wilted but I dig in. There’s warm hard rolls. I tear off a piece and slather it with butter and chow down. And there’s the wine. It’s not half bad. And then there’s a huge piece of chocolate cake with whipped cream as an additional reward for my patience. The bill was only $37.80. What the hell. Good thing I saved twenty bucks with parking and internet. Finally at 10:30 PM I tuck myself into bed for a nap. My alarm is set for 3:00 AM.
Ring ring. Time to get up. I get ready and leave my room a little after 4:00 AM. When I arrive downstairs, prepared to ride the 4:20 AM shuttle I find out that this time of day the shuttle doesn’t run on any set schedule. What? Where’s my little girlfriend that reassured me that the shuttle ran on schedule 24 hours a day? Don’t worry, they’ll call me one. Sure enough within a few minutes a shuttle came and picked me up. I was in the airport and at the ticket counter by 4:20 AM. Ah but they don’t open until 4:30 AM. So while waiting for an agent, the gentleman beside me strikes up a conversation. He’s a military man. Does recruiting now but has been in the service all his life. He’s on his way to Anchorage to visit 4 of his 5 grandchildren. His wife is already there. Blah blah blah. He feels bad recruiting kids and sending them to Iraq. Not bad for sending them but bad that he doesn’t go with them. He said sometimes they come back wounded. But that some of them consider war wounds badges of honor. And then they have a war story to tell. Then he asks me, “Do you know the difference between a fairy tale and a war story?” “No sir”. “Well a fairy tale starts with Once Upon A Time and a war story starts with “This ain’t no shit”.
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