Rather than add to a post that nearly a week old I figured I better start another…plus I was beginning to worry that some might fear I never made it back!
Carl and I checked in at O’Hare Thursday afternoon, (4 hours early, just in case) to find that we were on standby for the last flight to Providence, nope, now way we are spending another night in these clothes. I started shuffling the options in my head, was I going to go all, “bitchy” or break into tears…too early to tell. We breezed through security, and made our way to the departure gate, we passed the O’Hare Bar and Grill and the host yelled out, “hey are you guys still here? I saw you two last night”. “Umm yep we are still here” we answered and gave him a short run down of the nights events, the whole time with me wishing we had chosen less “memorable” T-Shirts, ah well lesson learned. We bid farewell to our new, “bff” and promised that if we did indeed have seats for our flight we would be back for a drink!
We waited for the flight that was boarding to finish before pleading our case to the dude at the gate. Once the door was shut we were on him like flies on…um, poo. We told him what happened, explained that we were stuck for 24 hours and we were now on standby, the little dude behind the desk so took pity on us and without so much as a word he printed us boarding passes, with actual seat numbers, (insert happy dance here…looks a little like that dance that Snoopy does) and as promised we headed to the bar for a cold Martini and some hot wings! The idea of getting where we needed to be, wearing my jammies, juicing our much needed tools and yanking off those god awful underpants had me floating on air, and I hardly noticed that my left flip flop was still taking longer to un-stick from the floor, I was damn near euphoric.
Two Martinis later I was deeply fascinated with the very pale, very much the same color family next to us at the O’Hare Bar and Grill, even their hair was the same color and they were wearing matching shirts…all five of them. Growing up in the center of diversity that is Southern California, I just could not take my eyes off of them, I’m hoping they just thought I was drunk and not rude! The Mom had salad but the other four all had chicken strips…and were in a luke-warm debate about which chicken strips were better, the ones here or the ones they had a lunch, and no lie they were all drinking milk. Who are these people? It was like they were from some beige planet or something! Just as I was turning away to take the final drag of my icy cold Sapphire Martini I spotted the littlest beige child shaking pepper all over her strips and fries. We are not talking about a sprinkle of pepper, we are talking a serious amount of black pepper…she happened to look over at me, (might have felt my eyes on her) and all I could think to do was wink as if to say, “Go for it little spicy one…get your pepper on”.
Carl and I ended up being separated on our flight and I was seated next to a divorced gentleman, (I know because he told me) that was, “a miserable failure with women”. I reached for my ipod and he said, “Oh you don’t want to talk to me?” I slipped the ipod in my seat back pocket and attempted a grin. I listened as he told me about his past relationships, asking twice if I was married and then remembering and while placing his hand on my knee and wrist saying, “Oh yes you already told me you were”..ugggg! It was more than the stupid boys panties making me uncomfortable now, it was this guy with his grabby hands, big ideas about arranged marriages and spicy tomato juice breath. I tried to be sweet, really I did but I was at my breaking point, my answers were glib and there was more than once I just stared at him with my mouth half cocked like, “Wow, it’s shocking that you are single!” I think he got the hint after about 40 minutes, he asked if I would like to sit with my husband to which I answered, “YES!”.
We arrived in Providence and hit the baggage belt, no bags….just then a saint of a man said, “Anderson?” (The Hubby’s last name) and Carl replied, “Yes” “Your bags are in my office, they got here this morning” Hooray, they’re here! We loaded up the rental car and drove the less than quarter mile to our hotel. We wheeled our bags into the hotel lobby at just past midnight and the very animated and very New England, (dropping her r’s left and right) receptionist told us that we had a message. “Did a package arrive for us” I asked to which she told me flatly, “:Yes, that was the message I was about to give you”. “It’s my wine, my wine is here” I sang and gave a modified happy/Snoopy dance…I was tired. As we loaded up our bags and case of wine on the bag rolly cart thing I said, “I’ve got one more question for you” she didn’t say anything but I could guess that she was ready, (New Englanders are brisk, not rude mind you, just to the point folks…I dug it) “I’ve been reading about these Hot Wieners and Coffee Milk that are truly a Providence experience”.
I got a giant smile with that one! “Havens Brothas, (brothers for us from the west) that is what you are looking fawh” she beamed. Before I knew what was happening she was printing us directions and showing us pictures of the trailer where these local treats were being served. We stepped into our room, again the widows are sealed..ack, plugged in our junk, I slammed a bottle of 2007 L’Hortus Rose, ($12.99) into a bucket of ice and we were back in the car with directions clutched in our sticky little hands.
We skidded onto the empty highway in pursuit of the Providence Hot Dog, known locally as Hot Wieners. A treat that I was told was to be ordered in minimums of 4, (half the fun watching the cook build them up their arm) and they were dogs served in a split top bun with mustard, meat sauce, onions and relish, your basic gut busters but we were hungry and I was already a day behind on my vacation, I wanted a dog!
Well….funny story, there are two locations for the famous Havens Brothers Hot Wiener trailer, one for the daytime and one for the evening, (open until 3 am) guess which directions we had? At 2am I called off the search and we ended the evening in the room with a small bag of Ruffles Cheddar and Sour Cream chips procured from the Hilton Pavilion Pantry. I so didn’t care, I had my jammies, fresh clothes for the morning, (which was coming fast…checkout was 11am) and a frosty glass of L’Hortus Rose, getting happier by the second because tomorrow we pick up our son Jeremy at the airport and head off to Connecticut for the wedding.
Goodbye Franciacorta, goodbye Mr. Chips…
17 hours ago