Wow. What a weekend.
Let me start with a little back story: Growing up, my family took a lot of vacations. We would drive or fly and visit all kinds of locations. Disney World, Las Vegas, New York, California, etc etc. I was a pretty lucky kid. What wasn't lucky, however, is what we eventually titled the "Curse". And wherever we went, something bad always happened. Hence, the "Curse". Something, something, would always go array. Whether it be flight problems, car problems, hotel problems, medical problems, ticket problems, event problems, didn't matter. SOMETHING always went wrong. It became somewhat of a joke over the year. When we'd take a vacation and and encountered a problem (if not 20) we'd laugh and say "There's that Curse!"
Fast forward some odd years later and I'm an adult taking my own vacations now. And, wouldn't I be damned, that same misfortune is following me. I can't seem to take a vacation or trip anywhere without something, and usually many somethings, going wrong. I was the issue! My bad luck has followed me from my childhood into my adulthood and refuses to budge.
Case in point: this weekend.
Robin informed me some time ago that he had never been to a Six Flags (I'll wait for your gasps of shock to subside). So, being the awesome girlfriend that I am ;) I planned a trip there for his birthday weekend in August. I bought tickets, car parking, hotel reservations, looked up restaurants, things to do in the area, so forth. I was gung ho about making sure he had an awesome time. Well, here comes August and it's time for the trip. Keep in mind he still has no idea where we're going; it's a surprise birthday get-away :) We pack up, get in the car, and head southwest. Pretty early on he knows we're going somewhere in Texas but he's just not quite sure where yet. As we pass through Dallas and all thoughts of a trip there get left behind, I decide to give him a hint. Remember those Six Flags commercials with that old guy who shows up in a bus and starts dancing everywhere to "We Like to Party"? Well, I found the song on Spotify and played it for him, waiting for that look of knowing to hit him. He listens, and listens, and then just kind of looks at me stupefied. "Get it? Get it?" I ask eagerly, grinning with anticipation of his realization. "Nope." came the response. So, I loop the song to play 6 more times in some kind of hope that his childhood will rear up and slap him in the head. No such luck. It isn't until we pass a road sign for Six Flags that he laughs, "Are you taking me to Six Flags?" "YES!!!" It seems my love had never seen the commercials with the dancing old man so that clue was pretty worthless. Ah well, at least he knows where we're going now! Let the excitement ensue!!.........right? Wrong. After some discussion, Robin informs me that he has not only never been to a Six Flags, but, that "Space Mountain" in Disney Land has been the only roller coaster he's ever ridden (again, I'll wait for your gasps of shock to subside). So, upon hearing this news (which he swears he's told me before, and with my memory I honestly don't doubt that), I get excited. Now I get to help him experience 2 awesome new things! But, wait, no. This is not the case. One might ask why, exactly, a 26-year old has never ridden a real roller coaster. And then came the answer: he doesn't like them. Yup. After all of the planning, money, and excitement of over a month I put into this trip, I'm taking my boyfriend who doesn't like roller coasters to an amusement park full of roller coasters. Pin, meet balloon.
Now, Robin swears it's not that he doesn't like them, it's just that he hasn't really ridden any to know if he does or not (now he's just being nice). So, trying to muster what little excitement I could, we decide to hold off until the actual park visit the next day.
We go to the hotel that I had read great reviews for online and was about 5 minutes away from the park. Reservations are there, hotel looks decent, everything should go smoothly, right? Nope. Our room had apparently not been cleaned after the previous occupants left. The bathroom products were half used and the bed was full of human DNA (we're talkin' hair, stains, and SKIN FLAKES). Of course, luck continued, we didn't find out about the bed situation until we had rolled around it for a while *gag*.
So, next day is Park Day. Let's get this boy on a roller coaster! We go to the park and pick one that I deemed a good start. Nothing too scary like the Batman or Titan, but above the kiddy pony rides. We wait in line for about an hour, load up into the seat, and start off. I look over at Robin. He seems calm enough. A little pale, but holding strong. Then we hit our first dip. "JESUS CHRIST! OH SHIT! FUCK! FUCK!" I swear that boy saw his life flash before his eyes. Robin, keeping his head to the side upon the requests/pleas of our ride partners, finishes the ride. The verdict, ladies and gentlemen, is a dim one; he is officially not a fan of roller coasters. Pin and balloon, meet stomping foot.
The rest of the day plays out pretty much with me riding everything available and Robin keeping me company in line then waiting for me at the exit :P Was it the most ideal situation? No, indeed it was not. But I can take this as a lesson learned: Ask more questions about your partner and actually remember their answers. Overall, we managed to have fun at the park and at least he can now say he's been to a Six Flags :)
Next day: The plan was to pack up early and head to my parents for my grandmother's birthday party. Around 11 we hit the road. We make it up through Texas and halfway through Oklahoma before stopping at a Wal-Mart. My air conditioner is practically non-existent and I need to buy some coolant. After attempting to put said coolant in the car, and getting rained on the process, I deem the task a fail and keep on driving. We make it 15 miles outside of McAlester, OK when we hear this noise. It sounds like a flat tire so we quickly pull over. Upon observation, we see this long, plastic thing stuck around my tire. Shrugging it off as highway trash, we toss it and get back in the car. However, as soon as we turn the engine back on, we hear the same noise. This time we pop the hood and look at the engine. Come to find out, that long, plastic highway trash was actually part of my fan belt. The damn thing is shredded! Many phone calls and tears of frustration later, we've come to a conclusion: Because it is a Sunday, we're stuck in Oklahoma for the night until a mechanic opens Monday morning. We get a tow truck out to the car and get taken back to a rinky dink motel which just so happens to be conveniently located down the street from an auto-repair shop (What is this? Good luck? It cannot be so.) Upon making ourselves comfortable in the hotel room (and deeming the bed mostly DNA free) we pop open a 1.5L bottle of wine I had originally intended to give my grandmother for her birthday because shit, if we're going to be stuck in Oklahoma, we're going to be stuck in Oklahoma drunk.
We managed to get the car fixed early this morning and made it back home finally. I'm so drained I can't decide if I want to sob, laugh manically, or fall into a coma. The Curse has reared it's ugly head once again and I can only curse it's power. Now, do I actually believe in curses and luck? Not so much. But after experiencing situation after situation that is the story of my life, one can only assume I have wronged a deity or pissed off a coven somewhere.
My feelings about this past weekend were wrapped up in the following question, "Honey, can we take September off from vacations?
-fitz
