I got in late afternoon on Thursday. Earlier in the day while I was waiting for my flight I had received a text message from Wapak telling me that she was there waiting for GP and that I should hurry up. Yes, because I have any control whatsoever over the airlines. Does anyone? But I told her I was flapping my arms as hard as I could. So I get to PDX and text Wapak saying that "I am in Portland" to which she responded, "are you in portland yet?" And it went down hill from there. I responded that yes, I was in Portland, but (at that point) still on the plane. And then, because I like to dot my i's and cross my t's, I confirmed that I was in the Portland that is in Oregon. Wapak wanted to know if, since I hadn't deplaned or whatever the term is, if they were supposed to move the party to the airplane. Frankly I didn't think there was room and suggested baggage carousel 8. She told me to be on the lookout for CBs as I left the plane and I was. I was on the lookout as I got off the plane. I was on the lookout as I left the gate area. I was on the lookout as I got on the escalator leading to the baggage area, and still again when I arrived at the location where I expected my bags to show up. Still no CBs. Then my cell phone rings and it's CMS asking where I am. And I responded "at baggage carousel 8" which she seemed to find very funny. Once she stopped laughing she explained that they had been so busy talking that they didn't see me get off the escalator and WALK RIGHT PAST THEM. Ironically, she was there because she was the one who knew what both JenB and I looked like and could pick us out of the crowd. That was a successfull plan.
As the weekend went on, there was much frivolity and merry making, making Mary merrier, one hopes, but as far as I know no marrying, merry or otherwise. Except possibly in Powell's but we never got the whole story on that. At one point our hostess went off (well she went off on several occasions, ostensibly to procure more ice, and we'll just let it go at that) in the company of, I think, JenB. Don't let Jen's sweet face and quiet manner fool you; it's all a facade. They called back to the party to see if anything was needed or wanted and, well, you've already heard that K.L. requested and received her very own pony. I can't remember if GP wanted a camel or an elephant, but whatever it was she got, she seemed happy with it. I, on the other hand, came out way ahead of the pack on account of I got ...
MEN IN UNIFORM
And even though there were plenty of weapon wielding hunks to go around, I did not share. So there.
6 comments:
Hey, you were supposed to share!
I think this is a reaction to not getting a single margarita the whole time you were in Oregon. Is it my fault the likker stores always put the Closed sign up when they saw us coming? I think it was a liability issue: they didn't want to be held responsible for anyone dancing on that Pisan* table top.
*i.e. a table designed by the guy who created the leaning tower of Pisa. Which is in Italy. Which we will have to go to if Xenia leaves the country when we get to the U.K.
LOL McB. Now all you have to do is wave your wand and enlarge your uniformed men just a tad. (And that wasn't supposed to be a dirty comment. It just turned out that way.)
I don't know why you don't have to share. I had to share my pony with my daughter.
I am both entertained and frightened by all of your whack stories. I may get so anxious that I HAVE to flee to Italy when you all invade the UK. ;)
Looks to me like a re-enactment of our last road trip. The officer who pulled us over said, "Ma'am, please step away from the vehicle." And McB launched herself in a running leap at the poor guy.
uinzp: clearly a mis-spelling of what happened to the uniform after that
I was trying to distract him so that you could get away. And it might have worked too, if you hadn't confused the hood release with the gear shift. Again.
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