Monday, November 08, 2004

All Things "Road" Island

Day 1 -

A friend and I recently visited Rhode Island and parts of Massachusetts. Traveling to unknown places with friends can be an eye-opener. How was I supposed to know?

For instance while driving to the airport; we decided to share our favorite quotations as a way of passing time. Mine was, “I would match wits with you, but you are so unarmed.”

While checking our luggage with the airport officials, I gave the wrong answer to one of his questions. My friend was standing next to me checking in her own luggage and turns to me and says, “What's the matter…you unarmed?” Dead silence. An hour later we were set free and allowed to go on over to the next Security checkpoint. Think we made it thru? Nupe.

After I breezed through, I looked behind me and my friend’s taking off every possible piece of clothing she can without being considered indecent. Her hat, coat, scarf, purse, carry-on, shoes, lipstick…you name it. All confiscated. She was taken to another secured area so I sat down in the cleared area and decided to read a few pages of my book knowing this would take a few mintues.

After finishing War and Peace, she showed up. She asked, “Did you know that you cannot carry knives on planes? Go figure. Well, no matter. I told them to keep it, I had two more. Holy Moly! No sense of humor, those people.”

Day 2 -

Martha’s Vineyard. You’ve heard of it all your life… you are, traveling with your girlfriend, a knife-carrying, but fun person, and you’re about to visit a place with lighthouses and beautiful old homes, some of which are 300 years old!

We rode a ferry over to the island in order to see old homes, shops, sailboats, pubs, and WINDS! eeek! One day…just one @#$% day out of 365 and that’s the day they have winds in excess of 55 miles per hour. And we’re in um.

My friend wanted to sit in the front deck of the ferry…outside. I thought, “be a sport” so I did. Not only did I experience an instant face lift from the winds, but the temps were hovering around 40ish…

I couldn’t imagine being more miserable as I watched the cold water lapped up against the ferry until my friend said, “Oh…did you know this is where Jaws was filmed?” I swerved around nearly breaking my frost bitten neck in half and said, “JAWS? THE MOVIE? WITH THE SHARK? HERE?”

This movie was single handedly responsible for me never going to the beach again. Ever. It scared me so badly I couldn’t even take a bath for a month.

I spent the rest of the ferry ride watching and waiting. I also listened for the music to start….dun dun dun dun…dun dun dun dun…My girlfriend was hanging over the rails. And before you ask, no…not once did I think of pushing her. Okay, maybe once...but I swear, that was all.

Day 3 -

“I know…Let’s just take a ride down the coast today and stay out of the wind, whatcha say?” asked my friend. Hm…wise woman I thought. This does makes sense and sounds like just what the doctor ordered. So…a coastal ride it was.

What a Bee-U-ti-ful day! The sun was shining, the winds were calmer, and we had a whole day to see the coast. And see it we did. And other parts too. Over and over…and over…but I digress.

Our strategy was to stay on Route 6 and travel down the coastline visiting one little town after the other. All was well until we made the return trip. There it was…the large sign which said “DETOUR.” Now, to locals, this meant nothing, but to a couple of yokels (opposite of people with brains) this spelled disaster.

We decided we would not panic at this point. We were after all, women. We roar. So we drove to the nearest convenience store and asked the clerk and his other patron inside how to get back onto Route 6.

First of all, they don’t speak Southern in Massachusetts so I had to repeat my question several times. Then, I had to asked them to slow down and repeat their directions..."use sign language if it helps" I said.

Finally it dawned on me that both men were totally inebriated. Knee-walking, drink um pretty, dead dog drunk. I tried to make a hasty retreat (amidst hugs and promises to write) and after finally convincing them I wasn't Dolly Parton, we made our get away. We decided to just read our map and wing it. Bad move. Very bad move.

How does one keep a couple of idiots occuppied? Give um a map. At night. On an interstate.

Two and a half hours later, we pulled into our hotel room. But not before we had asked every citizen within a 50-mile radius how to get to Hotel 8. Thank the good Lord Tom Bowdet was leaving the light on for us....

We had somehow managed to circle, (at least 8 times) a 10-mile stretch of interstate I195 which, by the way, ran parallel to our hotel. At any time during our “scenic ride” I could look to my right and see our hotel…abeit at a distance. I also committed to memory the price of every mower sitting outside at Home Depot as we passed, and am now on first name basis with every Dunkin Donut employee at six different locations. (Thanks Marg for the free coffee and chocolate cruller, you da bomb!)

Several policemen who worked the area told us we should apply for a blonde status, and two firemen, (one of which I would LOVE to bear his children), told us there were bets on how many more times we would circle around their route.

It took me a while to catch on that the REAL problem was my friend loved exits. I knew she loved to drive, but exits? I finally realized that every time we came to an exit, she'd just take it. No matter the exit was going to Kalamazoo…an exit was an exit to her. And she loved them. Chalk that one up for the books...

After threatening bodily harm, I managed to convince her to stay in the correct lane and we eventually found our way back to Route 6, and the hotel. Too late to go out for dinner, so we stayed in, watched a movie, and drank coffee…along with 3 dozen donuts, compliments of the winning firemen. Between the caffeine and the sugar high, I was so wired the next morning that I could have flown the dang plane myself. I was talking so fast people thought I was born and raised in Rhode Island. Did I have a good time? You bet I did. Am I glad to be home? Are you kidding me? They don't call it "Sweet Home Alabama" for nutin...da Queen


Anonymous Anonymous said...

I love your blogs! You always make the best out of a bad situation!
Sounds like you had some fun though!

8:12 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You are absolutely the funniest person I know. Hands down! You MUST submit this to ALL the magazines in that part of the country. I bet they would publish it in a New York second. Keep getting your work out there...
Dotsie Bregel

9:02 AM  
Blogger Donna J. Shepherd said...

That's a good idea, Dotsie! You are always thinking.

JJ, you friend sounds like a riot! I'm glad you had such a great time - we get the benefit of all your mishaps! Thanks for the laughs!

Devotionals by Donna

9:22 AM  
Blogger Heather Osterman said...

Darling Queen Jaw Jaw,

Oh! You are so definitely armed -- to the teeth. I laughed from beginning to end. But I have to ask; when did you have time to write this? You must whip these things out of thin air. Now THAT'S talent!

Giggles, h

10:45 AM  
Blogger Queen Power said...

Okay, you had me laughing at loud. Great story. Heck, I even found myself wishing I was in the hotel room with eating doughnuts!

2:06 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Definitely one of your BEST and funniest pieces yet My Queen! I could just see you and Nancy circling like vultures looking for your hotel....Well, now we know you should pack a compass on your next trip! Thanks for sharing your adventures with us - this was so well told I felt like I was there....HAHA

Pam aka Madame Anonymous

6:44 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ok, you girls don't need a compass, you need a GPS and a Forest Ranger!! Hmmm,..........maybe I do too!

9:17 AM  
Blogger Loki said...

That sounds the kind of trip I'd love. Insane, but fantastic.

1:08 PM  

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