Ryan and I had this plan. The plan was that we would have a couple of friends join us to St. Louis where Six Flags was “celebrating” GLBT Day. The idea was, two hotel rooms, one car, four friends driving, having drinks with mutual and new friends Saturday night, waking up Sunday and picking up Jenny and going to the park for a fun filled day of rides and expensive bottles of water.
My car broke down. A recalled part landed my car in the shop. Coincidentally, that recalled part cost me money to get fixed…
Ryan’s car was too small for four people and the air conditioner is on the fritz so we investigated a rental car. Every dealer was sold out.
Jeremy’s cousin volunteered to drive us, quite nice of her. A few problems there. That made a total of five people driving up in a car made for four people. Never mind picking up Jenny the next day, never mind that we wouldn’t have a way to see our friends for drinks that night. Never mind that the other three in the car would be under 21 and thus unable to go out with us.
We get about ten miles outside of town when I get a phone call from my dad that he has managed to get us a rental car. Our driver reluctantly turns the car around. (Not so secretly, I was thankful to get out of the car. Between the packed backseat to the driving skills of our 17 year old driver… I was ready to get the hell out of there).
You’ve got to be kidding.
$75 a day, 14-20mpg and you have to be 25 to rent it. I’m 23. Reluctantly, again, our driver brings us back to the condo. Ryan and I decide we will just take his mustang. It was really the only choice. So we go inside the condo to pick up a few things… and notice the fabulous trail of chocolate tracked in by my flip flops.
For real? OMG.
We work hard to clean up the mess, it was actually a bit fun, thanks mostly to Ryan’s eternally positive attitude.
So we clean up the floor, pick up our things, get some gas, buy a few drinks and drive. We have fun in the car because… well we always have fun together. If left on an otherwise deserted island and given the option to bring one thing with me, it would be Ryan.
He makes me laugh, he makes me see the brighter side of things. He makes me feel whole.
Ryan would bring hydrogen peroxide. He isn’t as romantic as I am in times like these. wink wink
We make it to the hotel, we get dinner, and ultimately decide that driving 40 minutes to meet our already partially drunk friends at a bar and then have to find our way home would be a bad idea. Plus our other three people are under 21.
After about an hour of talking to each other about me allowing myself to be trampled on by my friends and my exes, we head downstairs to the bar. Ryan charms the bartender, I drink my vodka and Sprite. It was tasty. We again, have a wonderful time together.
We wake up, head to Jenny’s, get lost… get lost some more. Get bagels, cheat the system at Panera, get to Jenny’s, eat said bagels, meet her roommate, meet her roommate’s boyfriend and his friend, head to Six Flags. We forget the camera. Holy shit.
About the park later.
After the day at the park, we went back to Jenny’s, took a nap, took a shower, and headed out to see Geoffrey for dinner. Got lost, then we got really lost. Then we made it.
This weekend has convinced me that Ryan and I have to get a Garmin, or at the least, I’ll definitely have to get the new iPhone 3G with built in GPS. Holy hell.