A Caught in a Downpour Rainy Day Story

Dear Lady in front of me on line at Starbucks,

Seriously? You may think you ordered two of the same drink but neither the guy behind the counter nor I heard you do so. This isn't the guy's fault. It is yours. And no, they did not change the size of their cups. A tall has always been the small unless you wanted just a teeny drink. That is called a short.

The guy behind the counter knows when you order your drink Half-Caf that you want half regular espresso, half decaf espresso. You don't need to school him. I think hes already been to Starbucks school where he learned that.

Even if the guy behind the counter {who, btw wants to smack you at this point but he may have to get in line because now the queue behind you which was only 1 deep when you started is now about 6 deep} tells you that he can't give you cash back when you use your debit card you can STILL use the damn thing and gtfo. You don't need to then put it back away and paw through your bag looking for your Starbucks cards that you don't even know how much is on them causing him to have to figure it out for you. Then being confused that you still owe him $7.10 you must dig through your bag once again for the cash. Seriously. This could have all been avoided had you just swiped your debit card from the beginning.

Holy crap on a cracker lady. Did they just let you out alone this morning? Oh, and thanks for trying to run me over on your way out of the parking lot. I appreciate the extra jolt of adrenaline that the venti psl I almost spilled all over myself didn't offer.

Sincerely,
The increasingly disgruntled blonde behind you in line.

I Need Someone to Tell Me Where to Go.

Rudy was in San Diego two weeks ago for a super secret squirrel class. {Okay, not really super, secret or squirrel but a girl knows when not to ask too many questions. love you, darlin.}   Since San D is only a two hour drive {+-} and he scheduled vacation to begin after his class was finished we made plans which consisted of me driving to San D to pick him up. 

I google mapped my route. Twice. {cuz google didn't map it the way I wanted to go.} I packed my pink bag. The smaller version of the cute pink suitcase I packed in August when I went North to Alaska. It is perfect for an overnight. And I headed off down the road.

I haven't been to San D in a few years. I have never driven in downtown San D. I don't particularly care to take road trips by myself. Especially when I am unsure of the routes I am taking. I need a GPS. {The cute pink garmin @ BestBuy} I need a GPS because I am much calmer when someone is telling me where to go. {But nicely of course}

The first hour or so of my trip was uneventful. I know those roads. Once I was on the freeway the trip got interesting. As I headed down a long hill a sea of taillights greeted me. Now how is that good, I ask you? As I continued on my way we, and by we I mean the smart drivers, began to merge to the right. I can see down the hill and it appeared that a semi had jackknifed and was now in the #4 lane FACING me.

After inching my way down the hill {and allowing the idiots who thought they knew better and didn't bother to merge until the last minute into the lane} I eventually got close enough to see that the semi isn't a semi after all but rather a smallish pickup truck that is facing oncoming traffic while resting on only the two front wheels. Attached to the back of the truck {which was butt up in the air} is a toy-hauler camper laying on its side. Now THAT is some fancy unauthorized stunt driving. No one appeared to be hurt which was obviously good. As I passed I was able to pick up speed and continue my trip.

After the delay I made my way past the border patrol check stop and soon found myself wondering where the merge to my next freeway was. I was not having fun and am seriously wishing that I had that GPS to nicely tell me where to go. Turns out it wasn't as complicated as it appeared on the google maps and I made the transition without any problems.

Once I was heading in the proper direction I began to track the exit numbers. I am not sure how they, and by they I mean the people in charge of said numbers, think it is helpful to give no indication as to what exit one might be coming up to until one is right up on it but that is what I found to be the rule rather than the exception. I did manage to locate exit 1 which, I discovered rather quickly, dumped me right into traffic.

San D has more than it's fair share of one way streets to keep the excitement anxiety level at an all time high. I mean seriously, how helpful is it to be in the far right lane when you are going to need to turn left?? sheesh! I survived one-way-street land without any screaming or gnashing of teeth.

I phoned Rudy as I got close to the hotel. I thought the plan was that he would send out the bat signal or some sort of star trek tractor beam and guide me in. I soon found out that wasn't the case. I was right where my directions said I should be and I was on the blue tooth with Rudy and frantically looking left and right. Swallowing the slight panic down I exclaimed to Rudy "but I don't SEE the hotel!" and then...I looked up. and said...."oh. never mind." The hotel was right in front of me. Good thing it wasn't a snake, eh?

I survived my solo trip. Rudy was a sight for sore eyes as I spotted him coming out of the hotel as I pulled up. I graciously allowed him to do the driving for the rest of the week. I may not be the best co-pilot but I would rather be tech support than be the driver. 

When I travel I need someone or something to tell me where to go. But nicely, of course.