Tommy and I waved goodbye to the rest of the happyhaunts.
And watched them drive away in the dirty old van.
We would be missing them. I feared.
But not the stinkin' van.
In fact... I had myself ONE SWEET RIDE booked for Disney. My rental. Was gonna be a convertible.
Tommy and I were gonna be valet parkin'. In STYLE.
Or... we WOULD have been... had Mellyman not wandered by me sitting at the computer booking my rental car. And stopped to look.
I was promptly downgraded. To the lowest... most basic... level of "ride".
Forget "SWEET"... it wasn't happening.
Basically we were renting a 1965 Chevrolet Biscayne.
The van would have been several steps up. From this.
But... I believe... Mellyman was punishing me in some small way. For actually TRYING to LOSE the battle for his wallet. On this trip.
On the other hand... we got to use the Dollar Express Check-in.
So that was something.
Yahoo.
I remembered to bring along my Nehru jacket and go-go boots. To match our rental vehicle.
And all my other junk from 1965: My bell-bottom jeans, my love beads, my G.I. Joe doll (The manly one. Not the new-fangled Metrosexual one that's available NOW.), and my red embellished T-shirt:
Oh.
That's a bit. Blurry. Here... this might help you see the RED happyhaunt a lil bit better:
Heh heh.
Yep.
I was all ready with my stuff from 1965. Except that I wasn't even born yet in 1965.
There IS a nasty rumour going around that I was conceived at Woodstock.
Which may or may not be true.
I can't remember.
My long term and short term memory is somewhat shot.
TFI.
What I'm trying to say is this: This is the BLUE happyhaunt...
At the airport ready to go.
The other thing we had to do was call The General. My Mother. And say "Goodbye" properly.
Because she had popped in on us earlier in the day. While I was packing and had given me $60.00 in American money. To buy something for the kids at Disney from her.
She basically threw it in my hand and rushed out the door.
It was raining. Quite heavily. And she didn't want to stick around.
She wanted to get back home before the storm got worse.
We barely exchanged two words.
Just how I like it. BTW.
I think she ran out merely to avoid the hug and kiss good-bye. From me.
Just how I like it. BTW.
We made it through security. Losing my sword and knife. And sunscreen. In the process.
And headed towards our Gate.
Sat down.
With a turkey sandwich. Two chocolate milks and a bag of Sunchips.
And proceeded to drink and dial...
To be continued. Up next: The General is crazier than Crazy Frog. And some BAD news. Comes our way.
