with us rising unceremoniously from the motel beds which were, though surprisingly comfortable for the price we paid, not our own, and therefore not as satisfying after such a day, especially when we had to have a wake-up call at 11am, to make sure we could get out on time.
All the same, you know the movie, GROUNDHOG DAY, where Bill Murray goes through a never-ending day so long that when tomorrow finally arrives, he's just about struck dumb with glee? Yeah, that's where we were. But we weren't there too long.
No shower, no relaxed meal, we were up, dressed, and out of the building as fast as my little credit card could swipe. Breakfast was cheap fast food burgers. It wasn't even the meal, because we were less than two hours from home and we didn't have the appetite to consume more than necessary.
The drive home was relatively quiet, because none of us were truly awake. It's a shame, really, because that was a really nice motel. For $40 more we could have had a jacuzzi.
The drive back to Edmonton was, thankfully, uneventful. I watched the odometre to keep track of when we'd need to fuel up. After we dropped Kyla off, I made the executive decision to cut it pretty damn close, according to my calculations. Within 10km of what my tank will give me in the city, with regular gas. I wouldn't know until the next day that it still had 5L left. That premium gas, it gives back what it takes at the pump.
We took only the suitcase and my computer out of the car. It made it in the house, but only about five feet from the door. Andrea walked right past the stairs, and collapsed on the couch. Me, I was more intrepid. Also, our only bathroom is upstairs.
Now, I don't know if I've mentioned that we have a room-mate again. This one's not transferring his problems onto me like the last one, but he is kind of... Well, he's just not all there, to be honest. Yes, I know you're reading this, Rene. Every now and then, he acts according to a logic that can't be followed by ordinary humans. We knew this beforehand, and we knew it when we left. I specifically told him that if the place burned to the ground, I didn't want to hear about it until September 7th.
It can be good for sport, though, and when it's brought to his attention, I think he really appreciates the novelty of it, or rather the novelty of having other people perceive such novelty. That's really an area in which the two of us relate, because I do that myself, sometimes, so I can appreciate his perspective.
So maybe there's some distant form of logic, some crazy mixed-up thought process that might have made me expect... no, no there isn't.
When we left, we'd cleaned our room thoroughly. We'd cleaned the whole place, because we wanted to come home to something reasonably intact, but we did what most people do when they travel, we put fresh sheets on the bed, and made our bedroom an oasis wherein we could sink into post-travel recovery.
When we got back, it was filled with his stuff.
I reduced his crazy mixed-up logic to ashes.
Jason, I know that very little of what transpired was your fault, either directly or indirectly. I know that you didn't create the police emergency that resulted in the pink signs on the road, and you didn't make mapquest suck so much, nor did you make the girl at the Moore's in Kelowna try to get me to sign without trying on.
You didn't intentionally offend the guy at the gas station, you didn't make me completely forget what I wanted to say when I woke up on your wedding day. (I honestly didn't really know what I was going to say as I stood up, and I didn't remember what I said until I saw the video at home.)
You also didn't make the stripper cost me the shot at the pool table.
You didn't make us miss the ferry, you didn't make the guy at the diner in the middle of nowhere so unpleasant, and you didn't make the BC TC swallow us, and force us to drive around every tree and hedge in the province before we could escape. (If not for the Pine beetles, our trip would have lasted twice as long, I'm sure.) You didn't fill Tylor's home with young girls, or the whole town of Airdrie with conventioners, and you didn't pile your crap on my bed.
No, you didn't do or cause any of that. Except for the guy at the gas station. (And I'm pretty sure that had he not believed you were talking about Tylor, he wouldn't have said anything. You dwarfed him.) But all of those horrors and inconveniences and haunting mountains that rose out of the night to swallow us whole, that will always in my mind be a part of the experience of your wedding. And if were to wake up a few weeks in the past, knowing then what I know now...
I would remember the studs.
