My coffee mate could hear the conversation as if she lingered in Venice with us. “‘We are going to Milan arriving on the 11 o’clock train,’ Angela spoke on her cellphone with her backpacking pal. ‘We secured a hostel near the Milan station. When should we meet you to walk you to the place since it will be nighttime when you arrive?’”
“The young lady, a blond, scheduled the train from her area to pull in to the station in Italy around the same hour as our arrival! However, that isn’t the best part of their cell conversation!” I winked while completely immersing my pal in the scene. “My daughter roared with laughter as they spoke! Standing nearby, I tried to understand the situation that causes her silly noise.”
Quickly, Angela supplied the answer, “My friend is arriving about the same time as us. So, she said, ‘Oh good! We’ll be on the same train and can talk about the next leg of our backpacking adventure!’ When she heard me chuckling, that girl finally realized we’d be on a train coming from the north not the south. Anyway, she’ll arrive in Milan at about the same time as us!”
“But, on a different train!” I laughed along with them.
“Her blonde moment!”
“‘She is a natural blonde!’ My declaration met with no resistance at all from either girl.” My travel log chugged along, “At the train station, we hopped the rails traveling through a highly industrialized port; we witnessed a dramatically different view of the Italian coast than the ancient and picturesque memories of Venice.”
“Gone dull, eh?” Her play on words; I rolled my eyes!
Never a dull moment! By the way, did that blonde ever get totally lost while on the rails?
One Bit of USA Humor
After checking in to a new hotel, we planned on going to Fisherman’s Wharf where you can see Alcatraz in the distance. I secured a room for my kids while my coffee mate checked us two older ladies into a different room using a different clerk. For some odd reason, my lady made four keys. She knew the room was for my two girls; we all stood there shocked by her mistake. Was she as tired as us; most of us were still on Florida time or jetlagged. The incident threw me for a loop. Thus, as that hotel staff handed me those four keys, I asked, “Which two keys are for their room and which are for mine?”
The lady chuckled, “Oops, they are all for your daughters’ room!”
As we laughed, my pal stated that we could party with the best of them and we’re not too old or tired to accompany these young ladies. I interrupted, “Speak for yourself; I’m too tired!” Then, my question arrived, “Where are our room keys?”
Ruthie placed them in her hand that was under her purse; they were resting on the counter. Digging through her bag, she leaned back to the male that did her paperwork, “Excuse me, where are my keys?” Not correcting her, he made her two more. As she reached for them, we discovered the other two keys were hidden in that other hand. Due to her previous insistence that she still had it in her to party, I roared with laughter.
Quickly, I clarified the source of my amusement; “I get it! If they get four keys to their room, so do we!” I added for onlookers, “We haven’t even made it to the wine country or sampling sessions!”
As we exited the elevator, we were on the same floor but not in the same room. The girls stayed up the hallway, and the older ladies secured a room near the elevator for disability reasons.
~*~ Partying Continues ~*~
Later, at the San Francisco Warf for dinner, I mentioned that on a previous two week car trip, from Florida to California, I forgot my hotel room number. “My problem remembering began in El Paso continuing through Tucson. If I left the room venturing outside to breakfast or for another reason, upon returning to the general area of my suite, I’d slide my key into doors quietly. If the light turned green, I’d enter. It happened at least twice to me. After Arizona, I came up with a better method of remembering my exact room number; I wrote it on my hand.”
That night, at The Warf, everyone at my table swore that none of them would get quite that tired. I was the only one expressing our vulnerability, admitting to human frailty, and laughing about the possibilities.
The next day, my California kid arrived to breakfast giggling while confessing her mistake. She explained that she had no idea which door was hers after leaving the room the night before. Arriving to the vicinity, she used my trick slowly putting her key in and out of doors. “Which of the four keys were you using,” I teased.
~*~ The Bridge ~*~
We left San Fran through the Golden Gate Bridge; surprisingly there was no fog. “Every time I saw it in the past, it was socked in. You’d have to await a breeze to catching part of the red structure.” Angela spoke my thoughts aloud. The other two in the car were excited to be here for the first time. We jumped out with cameras in hand. We all raced to click; we took shots for each other. When we decided to take a foursome, some of us put our purses down on a bench behind us.
During the picture, I noticed a stranger’s hand reaching for one bag and stopped it. My outburst was something like, “Where are all our purses? Someone just tried to take one while we posed; I grabbed it back.”
In all the excitement, someone in our group thought she lost her bag. The hunt for a missing satchel began.
Did they find that satchel?
So, how warped was that?
Come on BUY (this book) to find out.
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