Saving money while having an adventure is how I roll, so it seemed like renting a U-Haul was the right thing to do. My mom and I would drive this “U-Haul” on a cross-continental move from Florida to British Columbia. We had grand visions for the trip, seeing America’s great landmarks, visiting old towns, and driving down good old Route 66, common, achievable goals.
The drive from my house to the I-75 went without incident, but as I began to merge onto the freeway, I realized that the U-Haul was not designed for speed. Not that I thought I would blaze down the highway in U-Haul bliss, I just thought that I might be able to reach 60mph within the first ten to twenty-minutes of freeway driving. Eventually we reached a cruising speed of 65mph by which time the noise in the cab turned into that sort of white noise that makes listening to music difficult and conversations short. Coupled with the lack of speed and the abundant white noise was the continuous blast of heat that shot out by the gas pedal. Within the first thirty miles of the 3500-mile journey, a few too many negatives had reared their ugly heads.
My mom and I were comforted by the amount of U-Haulers out on the open road. They obviously thought renting a U-Haul was a good idea, so maybe I needed to get off my high horse and join the ranks of the hardcore U-Hauler. With this in mind I gave a hardy wave to the next U-Haul I saw. My friendly gesture went unnoticed, which was fine as there were plenty of other U-Haulers driving around and I would wave at each and every one of them. After thirty-odd unreturned waves, I deduced that U-Haulers should not be mistaken for Airstreamers, which I assume are nice, friendly travellers, as they tend to travel in convoys. U-Haulers, apparently, are far too highfalutin, to be waving willy-nilly at strangers that happen to be driving the same unmistakable, muraled, cube van. The dream of U-Haul camaraderie was dead before it even came alive.
By the end of day one, my mom and I easily managed to clock 450 miles. That was good, what was not good was that my right ankle, thanks to the surge of heat, had tripled in size. My ankles are the smallest part of my body and the last thing I needed was a man made right ankle cankle.
The start of day two gave my mom and I renewed hope. We had come to terms with the lack of music, the white noise and the influx of the heat to the right ankle. We decided that since we were heading through Louisiana that we might as well nip through New Orleans, you know since we were in the area and all.
Walking out of the Louisiana State Information Centre my mom and I felt like a couple of chumps.
“You want to try and drive a U-Haul truck into downtown New Orleans? Into the French Quarter no less?” She all but asked if we were on “the drugs”. Whatever kind of drugs those might be.
Okay so maybe trying to drive through a historic landmark such as The French Quarter or the “Vieux Carre” as my mom liked to say, wasn’t the best idea. Perhaps aiming for slightly larger landmarks like the Grand Canyon would do us well.
The next two days went by in a slow, painful, blur and we had the great state of Texas looming ahead. Even though I had never been to Texas, I had a sneaking suspicion that the part of Texas that lay alongside Interstate 10 would not be overly interesting. And it wasn’t, but it was hot. Like really hot. So hot in fact that my mom and I thought that the U-Haul’s A/C was on the blink and coincidently enough we had the same thought about every gas station and restaurant we entered. It never occurred to us that something bigger might be going on.
By the time, we reached Wichita Falls we were hot, exhausted and ready to call it a day. We pulled into the first hotel we could find and I booked us a room. Somehow, in the five minutes that it took me to check in, “Lance” the Econo Lodge Assistant Manager/Front Desk Person, managed to give me the highlights of his life and I have to say at only twenty-five “Lance” has had some life. The highlights include, but are not limited to, being born with a hole in his heart, having an ill working ventricle, working as a deep-sea diver in the Gulf of Mexico for the oilrigs, and nearly getting sucked into some hole on the Gulf floor. As a result, he is now afraid of elevators and finds himself behind the desk at the Econo Lodge of Wichita Falls. As riveting and as questionable as the conversation might have been all I wanted to do was to get out of the heat and into the nice coolness that I knew only the Econo Lodge could provide.
My mom and I too tired to climb four flights of stairs hopped on the elevator, found our room and opened the door. We were immediately presented with a stifling hot, musty, dingy room with a fridge. I turned on the A/C and told my mom to stand beside it so that she could cool down. Ten minutes later, my mom and I were in a full sweat and we believed that the A/C unit, like the room, was subpar.
Having already built quite a rapport with “Lance” I had no problems calling him to ask about the poorly functioning A/C. Secretly my mom and I hoped that this would enable us to leave the Econo Lodge and find a nicer place to dwell for the night.
“Lance”, knowing that he would be taking the stairs, made it surprisingly quick to our room. I assumed that I must have inadvertently turned on the old Rebecca charm and “Lance” and his partially functioning heart had now fallen in love with me.
Not wanting to damage his heart any further, I asked very politely about the A/C, hoping against hope that it would be broken and my mom and I could leave.
This is approximately when things took a turn. I mistook “Lance’s” love for me for the love that he felt for the Econo Lodge. “Lance” became very defensive about the air conditioning unit and went on and on about some alleged heat wave. My mom, noticing that I had lost “Lance’s” trust, joined the conversation. She typically is not as polite as I am, or willing to pretend she cares and took a bit of a tone with Lance.
“That’s it! You are being very rude!” He yelled pointing directly at my newly retired mom.
“Oh, I don’t think I am though ‘Lance’. That is your name?”
“You are a very rude person.” Still pointing at my mom and now shaking a little.
“We would just like to get our money back and leave.”
“One more word out of you and you will have only five-minutes to leave the premises before I call the cops!” Still pointing and shaking.
“But...”
“That’s it. You are now banned for life from the Econo Lodge and five other affiliated hotels in the greater Wichita Falls area. I will give your money back, but do not try to come here again. EVER!”
“Lance” turned on his heel and disappeared down the nearest flight of stairs.
No comments:
Post a Comment