As many of you know in the Fall we took an amazing vacation to Paris. At that time I started my blog, and this probably should have been my first post, but for a multitude of reasons I held it back. After careful consideration and a an approval from my love, I now share with you the story of the last few hours leading up top our Paris departure. It seems most fitting on the eve of of NYC departure. I hope you all have a good tongue in cheek laugh. This is exactly as I wrote it on October 1st, 2011. It’s a great story…
So let me go on record as saying that if you are considering an overseas trip with a mildly frantic and potentially PMSing woman who has a propensity for leaving some things for the last minute and running a bit late on occasion let me strongly advise you to tread carefully! Lol.
I managed to get up about 8 a.m. and make it to a yoga class. Feeling great right after that so I thought I’d call home and see how the last minute packing was going. Maybe offer to bring lunch after I go to the bank.
Well I guess CJ decided that in the midst of having much yet to do that it would be a good idea to get a manicure and pedicure. Oy!
When I asked how long that would take I my unfortunate answer was, “I’m not sure”.
Armed with this information I head back to the apartment to get my cash to deposit in the bank. See I didn’t want to carry my cash to the yoga studio with me and take any risk even it would be locked in my locker…at a yoga studio (more on that later). After my bank visits I text CJ to ask her to call me when she is done with her “thingy”. While I’m shopping at Filene’s my phone rings. I answer the phone to hear the charming greeting from my love of, “What?”
What, what? I think to myself. She says “you told me to call before I went to my bank, what?”
I politely tell her that while I was at my bank I discovered that one needs to activate their ATM card for use in Europe. She responds, “Is that aaaallll banks….or just youuuurrr bank?”
Huh? Yes CJ it’s only the MB bank on Dearborn and Huron that requires it I think to myself. Wisely I instead sheepishly say, “just thought you might like to know” to avoid inciting a riot.
“Where are you?” I am then asked. I tell her I’m in the loop and I’ll be done in 20 minutes. She responds, “Well I will have already walked all the way to Chase by then” as if by some miracle my “chariot” was supposed to be parked on the curb in front of “Toenail painting R us” waiting for the scheduled “I’m not sure” ending time of said pedicure.
“Do you have to go back to the apartment to get your money, I ask?” She replies, “No I have it with me.”
Okay so let’s see here. At some point in the mid morning a frantic yet beautiful redhead departs apartment at 150 W Roosevelt….with over $1500 cash in her purse. She has two missions at hand. Walk to the bank to deposit money and get a pedicure. Somehow it seems like a good idea to go get the pedicure first while carrying the money and then walk all the way back across Roosevelt from Michigan to Canal past all the “upstanding citizens” waiting for the Roosevelt St. bus…with the $1500+ cash in the purse. Oy!!
I leave Filene’s and head to Walgreen’s which happens to be across the street from the Chase bank she is at. While I am checking out my phone rings. “What?” I answer. My turn you see 🙂
“Are you at Walgreen’s still?” I tell her yes and that I’m checking out. “Wait for me to get there, I have a $2 register rewards coupon that will expire while we are gone.”
How in the world with everything else that is going on and our flight departing in less than four hours can you remember and prioritize a $2 register rewards coupon? Oy!!!
Anywho… I use the coupon, which I am grateful for because it saves my on my various sundries and I pay with a debit card. After I swipe my card CJ looks at me and says, “you have to hit credit or debit…”
Really? Well thank God you showed up or I might have been standing there missing my plane while I was trying to master the art of checking out at Walgreen’s! (that was inside voice again)
We leave Walgreen’s and I tell her that I’m going to go to Jason’s deli and get some lunch. “Are you sure that there is time for that, we have to leave for the airport in 90 minutes?”
At this point I’ve still eaten nothing all day? Have taken a 90 minute hot yoga class and run about 5 errands. I’m thinking, “Duh!!! I’m ready to go I just need to get a bite and throw last few things in my carry-on” with my inside voice. Outside voice says “Let’s get a quick carry out and head home to finish up.”
When we get home I begin to straighten up a bit while I eat. It is now 60 minutes to scheduled departure time. CJ gets in the shower. Now based on all of your special knowledge of how long it takes our beautiful women to get ready from the time the shower begins you can understand my immediate concern. Lol. To her credit CJ has gotten very good at getting ready on the fly and had reduced her time from some 90 minutes when we first met to about 30-40 minutes. My concern though is she still hasn’t eaten, her blood sugar is crashing and she’s stressed out. Of course all of this is somehow my fault, right? I mean it’s in the “manbook” right? All things that go wrong in the process of a frenzy are the sole responsibility of the man, right? Oy!!!!
“I’m just going to have to take my food with me and eat it on the way,” she declares. Did I mention that it was a bowl of Chili and a salad? This won’t end well, I think to myself, stealing one of her famous lines.
“Are we taking the train or a cab?” she asks as we stand amidst one 50 pound check baggage, two 40 pound carryons, two laptop bags stuffed to the gills and a Joe’s shopping bag with the now portable lunch.
Uh, I’m thinking cab? Waking down Roosevelt with all this and then down the steps to the train not my idea of fun. “What if we hit a bunch of traffic?” she asks.
We have two and a half hours until our flight leaves. We’ll be fine. After fighting our way through traffic in the loop we get the the Kennedy expressway. It’s bumper to bumper. CJ looks at me and says, “Told you…” Oy!!!!!
Again my fault right? Manbook right?
Traffic does clear up and after we’re on our way she reaches into to Joe’s bag and pulls out a bowl of chili. “What are you doing?” I ask. “I’m going to eat my chili,” she replies.
You are wearing a brand new tan colored trench coat and the lid on the chili is smashed down, overflowing, and cheese is dripping down the sides. You are jammed in the back of cab with two carry on bags and you have no napkins. There is no way that is not ending up all over your new coat (inside voice).
“Why don’t you wait until we get to the airport. I have some snacks in my bag”
My unfortunate word choice is, “do you want a bag of nuts and fruit” offering my trail mix like stuff from my computer case. I get a sneer and a snicker and she just says, “I’ll just eat my saltiness for now.”
Martyrdom in the form of saltines.
Eventually we do get the airport in plenty of time. As we arrive she declares, “I feel better now that we are here”. Whew!!! Inside and outside voice combined 🙂
As I type this out it’s about 1 a.m. local time in the states. I’m somewhere 35,000 feet above Iceland, the outside temp is -61 Farenheit. I can’t get comfortable enough to sleep. Did I mention I’m in the middle seat so she can have a window because she wants to see Paris in the morning as we fly in. The guy on the aisle seat is a Frenchman who has yet to discover the that in America we offer the use of deodorants and anti-persperants. I need to take a leak but I feel badly asking him to wake up because I talked him into giving up his window seat for my love. Oy!!!!
And the moral of the story is? I have no freaking idea, but I will be in Paris in the morning! Vive la France!