Classic Blog Post: My F*****g Trip To Phoenix (Or Why My Life Is A Comedy)
Original Publication Date: 9/28/08
So let’s get to it, shall we? I thought I’d amuse you with tales from my f*****g trip to Phoenix two weeks ago. I had the whole thing planned out nearly perfectly! Provided everything went like clockwork, I’d fly into Chicago first thing Saturday morning, take a taxi to the house where Pookie had been staying, pack up his car that was still there and be on the road in an hour, an hour and a half at the most. Each day would consist of 600 miles of driving, putting me in Phoenix by midday on Monday, which would allow me to spend one full day of blissful couple-ism before his mother flew in. Once she arrived, I’d haul ass out the following day. Does anything ever go to plan? Please. This is why my life is a comedy, mostly of errors.
So, I arrive at the airport, find a space, jump in a shuttle, get through security and take off for Chicago all without a hitch. Towards the end of the flight, however, the pilot announces that we’re going to circle for a bit. Crap. Yes, we’re now at “crap” status. A second announcement informs us that the airport is temporarily closed because the air traffic control tower is flooded. Shit. We’ve now elevated to “shit” status. Aren’t those things (air traffic towers) like 60 feet in the air? We land 35 minutes later and the airport closes again. I venture downstairs to hail a taxi only to find the downstairs area closed. F**k. I head back upstairs to see if I can find out what’s going on only to have it suggested I try and take the train out one stop and catch a taxi there. So I go back downstairs again and am told I have to return upstairs, that the downstairs level is closed to due to flooding. Oh, and the trains aren’t running because of the rain. F**K!
There are no busses, taxis or other cars being allowed through to the upstairs level. Well, not for an hour and a half anyway. That’s when a few taxis sneak through to drop some travelers off. I manage to snag a taxi on its way out, only I’m told he’s charging me fare and a half because of the weather. F***ER! It’s either that or wait, so I agree. Instead of the hour or hour and a half I allotted to pack the car, it takes 2 hours because of those “Oh, do you think you could find such-and-such before you take off, but it’s not going to be anywhere near where I’m telling you it is, so dig in and search for it, beyotch!” phone calls. F*****g cell phones. F**k.
I only manage 350 miles that day due to flooded roads and rain. Still, with a restful night of sleep and an early start, I should be able to make up for it on Sunday, right? I wake up the next morning, have a hot shower, pack up the few things I’d taken out and prepare the door, a contented smile on my face at the thought of the drive ahead of me and being that much closer to Pookie. The door swings open and reveals…a torrent of wind and rain. FUCK.
Despite the lovely adverse weather conditions, I make 936 miles that day.
The final day of travel goes quickly, mostly because I’m totally geeked about seeing Pookie now. The weather remains surprisingly cooperative and cool. Well, right up until about an hour from Phoenix. It was then that somebody turned up the thermostat…BIG TIME. It was 102 degrees when I pulled into his complex and it was 85 degrees in his apartment, which he remarked at how nice and cool that was. It wasn’t cool. It wasn’t even close to cool. It was still f*****g hot. Do you know that he slept with three sheets on him that night? I thought I was going to spontaneously f*****g combust!
We did manage to have a lovely sushi dinner that night before nearly being mauled by a Pit Bull in the parking lot. Some f***er left his dog tied to a tree near all the cars. Now, mind you, it was still 98 f*****g degrees out at 9pm and dark, but still. If we hadn’t been shaken up so badly when it started barking and lunging, I’d have called the police. As it was, I think we were both a little embarrassed to have screamed in voices several octaves higher than we’re used to, so we didn’t. We went home and… Oh, I forgot to mention that. I didn’t realize that once I started heading south to Phoenix that the sun was frying the entire left side of my body and both kneecaps. Pookie decided to reward me with a nice back, arm and leg massage that night and that’s when we found out…mostly because I screamed again. F**************k!
One interesting thing about Phoenix (no, the heat isn’t interesting so much as it is annoying) is that one minute there’s light, then the next there isn’t. I thought I was in for a spectacular sunset and I was wrong. Do you see a f*****g refrain here?
1,846 miles from Point A to Point B, bad weather, hot weather, a Pit Bull and a visit from my mother-in-law later, at least I got to see my Pookie. And it gave me something to write about. Well, that and the sex, which was FANTASTIC! His neighbors were going at it like they hadn’t seen each other for hours!!!
Kage Alan is The Darkest Hour 3D watching, Roxette listening author of “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My Sexual Orientation,” “Andy Stevenson Vs. the Lord of the Loins” and the first book in a separate series, “Gaylias: Operation Thunderspell.” He picked up a bag of Sweet & Spicy Thai-Style Chile potato chips and remains severely disappointed. They taste nothing like a sweet & spicy Thai. Soooo didn’t get his money’s worth.