It's been an eventful trip thus far. We came to see my brother Nicholas for his Basic Military Training (BMT) graduation. It ended up being my mom, dad and cruise director, I mean, Grandpa (Bum) coming on the trip. Oh, and me. I'm here too. And apparently I am in charge of smelling everyones farts, because that is what I have been doing the entire time. The next guy (or girl...not naming any names, MOM) who pops a whiffer in my direction is gonna git knocked OUT. This momma is not on vaca to be changing dirty drawers...that is why I left Tim and the kids at home. Not that Tim would ever poop his pants, but that is another story...just sayin'.
The flight(s) down were uneventful, other than the fact that my mother insists on flying with drugs because we will certainly die if she isn't medicated. By way of a dose of Xanax and cough drops (mountain menthol, the 70 pack) we arrived in tact. Whew.
It's cheap to stay on the base and I am all about cheap. 34.75 per night. Good deal, right? I suppose so, as long as you don't mind having a room that hasn't been cleaned. Garbage full, bed all messy, used cups and napkins with the heat cranked to 80 and the water running upon arrival. Beautiful. I wasn't about the jump in that cootie sack. We got a new room.
It was late and we were all cranky. A long day of flying and being off schedule and hadn't eaten since lunch at 11am. We decided to eat on the base since it was centrally located and we could make a speedy trip back to our beds. Over to Godfather's we went (not a lot to choose from between that, chow and a Burger King). It was around 8 and we ordered our pizza just in time for the fire alarms to go off. We were one bite deep in a breadstick when the buzzers were blaring. "GET OUT! GET OUT!" And they shoved us out the door. I sent my dad back in for dead to grab my wallet and glasses. We wouldn't want to be caught without my military ID since I was only invited to be the tour guide. We waited outside for about 20 minutes before they brough out our subpar pizza and complimentary two liter of Sprite. Well, I guess it was better than getting burned up.
We brought the pizza back to the hotel where we ate in the common area. We were so tired that we could hardly chew. Off to the rooms we went to turn in. At the base hotel, the rooms are joined by a bathroom. We lovingly call the person in the adjacent room our "piss mate". My mom prefers "potty partner" but she is overruled, as a general rule. I didn't think we had said piss mate, until I poked my head into the already opened door of his room and almost saw what the stork saw. I quickly closed the door and locked it. Apparently he wasn't briefed on proper piss mate etiquette. Close and lock your own damn door. The rest of us don't need an accidental showing of your goodies.
It had been a long day and I needed to relax. I ran a bath and hopped in. Said piss mate apparently had Mrs. piss mate in there with him, because soon after plopping in to soak, she started riding it, Daddy. OH YEAH. RIGHT THERE. UH, UH, UH, UH, UH, UH. Oh, piss mate! (just kidding...insert name there.) I figured she'd be needing to use the bathroom before long, so I bolted like a bat out of hell. So much for relaxation.
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