The adventures of 4 traveling women
It was 2:00am Friday morning and 4 women sat anxiously waiting with suitcases packed for a journey to paradise to begin. As a surprise my friend ‘D’ had arranged for a limo to pick all of us (and our luggage) up from our respective homes and take us to catch the Airport Bus, which would take us to LAX. ‘D’ likes to arrange surprises for people. So there I sat waiting for my her mother (who was never coming) to pick me up while the other half of our foursome (‘D’s 22 year old daughter ‘C’ and her 22 year old roommate ‘E’) sat in their apartment waiting for my mother (who doesn’t even drive) to pick them up. These were the little lies she had told us in order to keep her limo surprise a secret. We had to be at the Airport Bus station by 3:00am to catch our bus. At 2:40am no one had picked any of us up yet. At 2:45am ‘D’ called to explain the situation.

“I had arranged for a limo from Limousine Scene to pick everyone up. I paid for it two weeks ago and called twice yesterday to confirm the driver would be here at 2:00am. The driver never showed up!” ‘D’ exclaimed frantic and furiously.

“We have to be at the bus station in 15 minutes.” I stated.

“‘C’ is on her way to pick me up and then we’re coming to get you.” ‘D’ explained before getting off the phone.

I was beginning to get nervous. It’s not a good sign when travel plans fall apart at the beginning of a trip. A few minutes later my phone rang again.

“I don’t know what my mom was thinking, but we can’t fit all of us and our luggage in my little Toyota. Can you just meet us at the bus station?” ‘C’ yelled into the phone frantically.

“I’ll meet you there.” I said hanging up the phone.

I threw my luggage into my car and raced down to the Airport Bus station on F Street. On the way there… my phone rang again.

“How do you get to F Street from Wilson Road?!” ‘D’, who has a tendency to freak out under stress, screamed into the phone.

I started giving her directions and she repeated them to ‘C’. I could hear ‘C’ screaming in the background: “Just tell me where on F Street the bus station is!”

At that moment I was so happy to NOT be in that car with those freaked out screaming women it didn’t matter that I now had to figure out a way to get my car picked up from the bus station.

We all arrived at the Airport Bus station within minutes of each other, ran in with our luggage and checked in at 3:12am. The bus was scheduled to leave at 3:30am. ‘D’ kept apologizing to all of us for the limo driver not showing up.

“It’s not your fault!” Both ‘C’ and I said at the same time.

“The Limousine Scene SUCKS!” ‘C’ exclaimed. “The driver better have been in an accident or be dead. Those are the only excuses that are acceptable for not showing up.”

“I called the Limousine Scene when the driver didn’t show up and their answering machine gave a phone number to call if it was an emergency. I called the emergency number and got another recording. I left messages on all their numbers.” ‘D’ explained.

“It wouldn’t be a vacation without a little bit of drama.” I replied.

“I can’t wait to give the Limousine Scene a piece of my mind! They better give my mom her money back!” ‘C’ continued.

We had made it in time. We were on our way to Maui, everything would be ok… we all thought as we drifted off to sleep on the bus.

Two and a half hours later we pulled our luggage off the bus and headed for the terminal to check in. We each had two suitcases and a carry on bag.

“Did everyone else pack their whole closet like I did?” I asked.

Both ‘C’ and ‘E’ shook their heads proclaiming they too had packed every outfit conceivable. That’s what happens when women pack for a 10-day trip. We need daytime outfits, nighttime outfits, bathing suits, shoes, purses, accessories, makeup… well you get the idea. I thought I had packed a lot, but both ‘C’ and ‘E’ had to pay the $25.00 fee for their luggage being too heavy. My big suitcase weighed 32 pounds and was under the 50-pound weight limit. ‘C’s big suitcase weighed 56 pounds and ‘E’s weighted 68 pounds. I think ‘E’ must have brought the kitchen sink along with her. I can’t imagine having to pull that heavy a suitcase plus another suitcase weighing at least 30 pounds and carry a bag while navigating the airport. I don’t know how they managed it.

It was now 7:00am and we had checked our luggage and passed through security. We were starving and went looking for food. We found a Burger King and ordered $7.00 breakfast sandwich meals.

“$7.00 bucks!” ‘C’ shrieked. “It’s like $3.00 bucks for the same breakfast sandwich meal in Bakersfield!”

“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore Toto.” I replied smiling.

“This is the LA airport, you can probably expect the same kind of prices in Hawaii.” I explained.

By the way… a $7.00 breakfast value meal at Burger King says orange juice is included, but you have to pay an additional $.99 cents for the orange juice. Their advertising is deceiving.

At 8:00am I called my Dad and arranged for him to pick my car up at the Airport Bus station. I endured his laughter over our plight so far, and listened to travel advice before getting off the phone.

We had to wait an hour and a half for our plane to take off so we browsed the airport stores and newsstands. Jennifer Aniston was on the cover of every magazine available. She had finally broken her silence and told her side of the story in a Vanity Fair interview. I bought a Vanity Fair for the actual interview, and ‘D’ bought People magazine for their gossip take on the Brad/Jen split and the Angelina factor. We lounged in the chairs at our gate, read, and people watched. Everywhere I looked people were reading magazines with Jennifer Aniston’s face on the cover. Divorce is hard enough in itself. I can’t imagine having to go through such a public divorce with the tabloids spinning the story every which way they can to sell magazines. I commend Jennifer Aniston for the way she’s handled herself through all of this, for taking the high road. In her interview, she had nothing but good things to say about Brad Pitt and their marriage. Even her pain and grief over the end of her marriage was expressed with true honest emotion. She was not playing the tabloid’s game.

While we were waiting for our plane the Limousine Scene actually returned ‘D’s call. Their excuse for the driver not showing up: they had 2:00pm instead of 2:00am on their paperwork. They weren’t even apologetic! They tried to blame their error on her, asking if she had received her confirmation in the mail even though she had called twice the day before to confirm the driver would be there at 2:00am. To compensate for leaving us stranded and in the lurch at 2:00am the lady offered her 2 free hours of limo service in town. She demanded a refund and ‘C’ got on the phone and demanded the general manager’s name so she could write him a letter. My one and only experience with the Limousine Scene of Bakersfield, California SUCKED!

We finally boarded our plane to paradise and quickly drifted off to sleep. Waking up briefly for bad airplane food, bathroom visits and glimpses of the in-flight movie Madagascar.

Once we landed on Maui, we faced the same problem we had earlier that morning… 4 women, 8 large suitcases and 4 carry on bags were not going to fit in one rental car. Our solution: shove as much luggage as possible and two people into the car and come back for the rest. So ‘E’ and I took off in search of our condo. We had received a map and these directions from the lady at the rental car counter:

“Turn right at the K-mart, go 5-stop lights then turn left then follow that road to Kamaole Sands.”

‘E’ and I began counting stoplights. We had no idea how far away the condo was (about a 45 minute drive) or that it was in the city of Kihei and the airport was in Kahului. But we continued on, map in hand, until we found it while ‘D’ and ‘C’ sat waiting at the airport for us. It took 2 ½ hours to make those 2 trips from the airport to the condo. In hindsight they should have taken a taxi while we took the rental car, but that’s why its called hindsight-- we learn from our mistakes.

Once we had all arrived at the condo we were pleasantly surprised to find how wonderful and spacious it was. There were 2 bedrooms (one a loft with a spiral staircase), 2 bathrooms, living room, dining area, a small kitchen, a washer and dryer and a small patio overlooking beautiful landscaped scenery complete with an ocean view. I opened the armoire cabinet in the living room that housed the TV and came equipped with a VCR, DVD player and… I couldn’t believe my eyes… a cable Internet modem. If only Dell hadn’t screwed up my laptop order and had delivered my laptop to me in time-- I would have been able to update my blog from Hawaii. Instead I would be writing about my Hawaiian adventures in a notebook and updating my blog when I returned home. That was just maddening to me after spending the last few days screaming at Dell over the phone.

Something had happened to the lock on ‘C’s big suitcase in transit and she couldn’t get it open. After a few moments of her freaking out, and a woman at the complex office who was not helpful and wanted to send her to a hardware store-- a handy man with a bolt cutter was finally rounded up and another crises had been averted. I sighed a big sigh of relief as I opened my suitcase, we had finally made it to paradise.

By this time we were all starving and sleep deprived as most of us had been up for 24 hours, except for the little bit of uncomfortable sleep on the plane, and the last time we had had decent food was early that morning. So, 4 tired and hungry women made the effort to clean-up, get dressed for dinner and venture out onto unfamiliar roads in search of a restaurant-- where we had to fight falling asleep at the table long enough to eat our food.  posted by Matildakay at 6:00 AM