Parts 1,2 and 3 chronicle getting the Chick family to Denver to attend a family reunion. We started our ascent to the reunion site at Estes Park. A lovely place indeed. For some reason I thought Estes Park was…well….a “park” . Its actually a resort town, cute and quaint. We travelled up to the YMCA to check in. Our host was handing out keys ( electronic of course) and room assignments. “oh, Hi Chick, here are your keys, you are in Building B room 12 and your roommates are…..” UH WHAAAAT?
Roommates? me? and my husband? Now, I am not 18 years old. Im nearly 52. I get up 3 times a night to pee. I haven’t slept with another adult in the same room ( other than Mr Chick) since I was in college.
I had asked our host before hand about accommodations. I did my homework. I still have the texts on my phone. I asked if we had private rooms. She said yes. We paid the equivalent of 150.00 a night for these accommodations which included only 1 meal in 2 days…a bbq. So to find out that I am sharing a room with husbands brother, his wife AND their 21 year old daughter who for some reason was not given a room despite paying for one…we were quite surprised to say the least. which means that for 2 queen beds and a futon on the floor, the five of us paid 375.00 per night…. what a bargain…
There wasn’t anything we could do about it but bitch and that wasn’t the best plan of attack so we sucked it up and checked out the room. THE KEYS DIDNT WORK. sigh…another room key failure.. is there gonna be a mad sleeping guy in it like the previous night ( see part III)? No, but we had to get into our car and drive to the admin building nearly a mile away to get new keys ( and hope they work). one did, the other didn’t…grrrr. 5 people in one room and 1 working room key? Back to the admin building to get MORE keys.
Our “roommates” arrived a few hours later to the same surprise that we did ” guess what…we are roomies!”. We were at least grateful that we were of similar situation: we all were non snorers ( tho I had ear plugs) and I had some left over and very expired xanax from a trip abroad a few years ago. It still worked….and we all were ok with getting up and needing to pee…since we all did!
The rest of the reunion experience was fine. Trying to get 250 people together ( on time) for a picture was impossible..and a little frustrating but it the mission was accomplished.
In 48 hours it was time to say good bye and head to airport. I was ready to go home and sleep in my own (private) bedroom. We turned in the car, headed to the airport, checked in , and got to the gate…all without incident. Could the drama be over? Could murphy’s law have been left at the park?
We went to hand in our tickets to be scanned and board the plane. BEEP. ” Oh, 4D and 4E? please step aside! Mr chick could see the temp rising in his frazzled wife. WHAT.IS.THE.MATTER.WITH.OUR.SEAT? I asked. WHY.CANT.WE.GET.ON.THIS.PLANE? I had had enough of this. I demanded an answer. No more excuses. I was at my end. The lady said ” they are fixing your seats.” WTF? they are airplane seats…they don’t recline anymore, they are bolted to the fuselage, they are designed to withstand a crash….and they don’t even have any moving parts anymore…what could POSSIBLY be broken? Stolen? Missing?
They dilly dallied around and finally let us on the plane. We sat down to this girl next to us and we asked ” did you see anybody “fixing” these chairs?” UH, no. she didn’t.
Well the seats made it home, they didn’t fly off the floor, nor did they come unscrewed from the floor. But the final bow to this nightmare was when I started my period…on the plane…
I needed a vacation to get over this vacation… Can I go back to work?