Tripped Up

My passion for travel started back in May of 2006 when I visited Europe.  I was bitten by the travel bug then, and the fever has persisted to this day.
     Back in the early stages of winter, I developed this idea that I wanted to go to Cancun at some point during the cold weather months.  The idea that formed in my head remained a specter of my true desire.  My sister mentioned about going to Orlando, but my infatuation with Cancun directed her words in one ear, and straight out of the other...or so I thought.
     It was only after I had buried my hopes of going to Cancun that Orlando entered back into my mind; this time with much more fury than before.  Upon concluding what seemed to be an infinite deliberation process, the airfare to Florida was booked.
     The morning of February 13th began with much anticipation.  We arrived at the airport with no problem whatsoever.  As we entered the terminal, we somehow must have attracted an unlucky aura which was loitering outside.  As we go to get our boarding passes, my sister realizes she doesn't have her current drivers license.  If I may provide an understatement, let me say this was a small cause for panic.  It was very lucky that my sister had alternate forms of identification which was satisfactory to TSA.
     Everything from that point until our descent into Tampa was literally and figuratively smooth.  We landed in Tampa, picked up our luggage, then headed to pick up the rental car.  I was slightly annoyed because I was looking forward to not driving on the trip, but my sister's lack of a current license ensured that I would be taking an active role in getting us from place to place..
     Somehow this aura of bad karma followed us from Utah to Florida.  While at islands of adventure, one of my contacts fell out then ripped.  I spent the latter half of the day partially blind.  Perhaps the best part of the day was paying almost nine dollars for a mediocre hamburger and fries.  No matter how much I desired the fun to stop there, it did not.  We spent a few minutes in the rain waiting the bus to take a long time to drop us off at the hotel.
     Going to beach was an adventure in itself, if you call being at your wits end an adventure.  I think it has taken people less time to cross the expanse of an entire state than it did for us to get to the beach in a vehicle.  What made me really excited was the GPS took us the long way.  The beach was great once we arrived.  Returning home from a vacation never really is a fun thing, but for us it was a nightmare without the dream.  The two children behind us were acting up and making noise for a good portion of the flight.  What a delight for the ears!  We were unfortunately made aware that these children would be on our connecting flight as well.  My emotional world nearly came crashing down.    Now that I have returned, I get to repair the damage.





   
   

A Hug Not Worth Remembering

     I've never claimed to be a hugging virtuoso,  but what happened about a month ago doesn't even qualify as pond scum.  The middle of winter can be quite brutal, and that particular night it was cold as I remember.  A female friend and I had just gotten out of a movie, and we were walking to her car.  I accompanied her to her car as a gentlemanly gesture, only to humiliate myself at the end of the stroll in such a way that only a true dunce could appreciate.
     As we arrived near her car, we stopped and talked for a minute or two.  Little did I know that there was a clumsy force inside me that was about to be unleashed.  I had decided that I wanted to hug her, as to avoid any embarrassing conclusion to the night.  I went in for the hug, and the product of my effort was a hybrid of a hug and a convulsion. I found myself doing the unthinkable:  the back-pat. 
     I must confess this instance was a repeat offense.  I recall at least one other time where the ever-ugly portion of my repertoire, the back-pat, came instinctively out of me.  This hug must have been colder than the air in which we were standing.  It would have been hard to identify if it was the cold or the embarrassment which turned my face red, but my hypothesis is the embarrassment.  I immediately acknowledged the error to my friend, to which she concurred.
    For a man who likes to give women a quality experience, the hug frankly was a first degree failure.