My Latest Vacation

We left for the Okanagan on July 26th, although I'd told all my co-workers that we were gone as of July 19th. It worked that first week, but they must've assumed I'd be back by the 26th as there were 9 messages from work this past week. Nine messages at double-overtime works out to be.... 72 hours, or another 2 weeks off.

They're just not getting it.

In fact, we have a newbie working there for the summer and my boss told him the importance of contacting anyone BUT me during July. So, he called me to ask why. As tempting as it was --I let that one be a freebie.

I knew this was going to be a difficult vacation. The last time I went up it was a solo trip and this one was with 2 small kids and a wife who barely wants anything to do with me. Fun. We weren't even 50km into our 450+ km trip when the first 'are we there yet?' erupted from the back seat. With just over 150km to go in the drive up, my son started screaming because he was sick of sitting and his ears were popping. Couldn't get there fast enough at that point, so you know what's going to happen to me.

As we headed into town with the boy screaming, I looked at the 'Welcome to' sign and the population of 1,256 people. I live in a small town. We have 35,000 people. We live next to a large town with 110,000 people. I refuse to call it a city because it hasn't grown up properly yet. 1,256 people. 1 traffic signal. And a fucking traffic jam over 2km long.

In desperation, I turn down the closest side street to avoid this traffic jam (one light, I mean come on already!!) and wouldn't you know it, I found the dead end street. The boy is still screaming and I whip the car around and head out in the opposite direction. My daughter asks what I'm doing and my wife responds, "Daddy's trying to find as many 4-way stops as possible." Now's not the time I tell her, but she's gotta be correct. Just gotta. I hang a right at the next intersection and head back in the right direction and manage to pull a left on the one street I need.

Unfortunately, a pick-up truck overloaded with hay cuts me off and I'm now stuck behind a hay truck doing 45 in an 80 zone and it's a double-solid line. the boy is still screaming. There's hay flying off the back of the truck and I'm wondering how much hay it'll take for my allergies to kick in and my eyes to seal shut. The last thing I want to do is crash with my wife in the car. She'll be saying "I told you so" all the way up the stairway to Heaven. Screw it. I pass and accelerate to 110 in the 80 zone. The boy is still screaming.

We get to my parents' place and I take the boy (still screaming, but quieter now) out of the car. We walk toward the house and I look longingly at the pool. It's then that I realize my bathing suit is sitting at home.

Shit.

We spend the week up there and pretty much laze around the house. It's too hot to do much of anything, but I do visit with my police office friend. I get to go on a different ride along this time as he's on patrol in the boat. The town's population where he's stationed sees it's population quintuple over the summer and there's plenty of drunks out in boats. We're out on the water and he gets a call that some drunk dove off his boat --into 3 feet of water. We're off to retrieve the body. I'm playing CSI all of a sudden. and, yes, I can tell you how disgusting a human body looks after it's been floating in the water for 12 hours.

And that actually was the highlight of the week.

Oh wait, there's more. Wednesday was my birthday, but I'm acknowledging that I'm 31. 30 was difficult enough, but now I'm 30-plus-one and that's way too much to handle. What the hell happened to 23 and 24? I got a chocolate cake and barely convinced my wife that we should go see a movie. I suggested 6 movies before we finally agreed on Spider-Man 2.

The city of Vernon in the Okanagan is one of the worst cities in British Columbia. It's right in there behind Surrey and Abbotsford. I consider Abbotsford "Surrey, Jr." and Vernon has become to me the "Abbotsford of the Okanagan." Abbotsford sucks and Vernon doesn't like competition...

I've posted before about seeing movies in Abbotsford and how there's always a rather large contingent of losers in the theatre. When watching 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,' a few people left because the movie was too quiet. You could barely hear them speaking Cantonese, fer cryin' out loud. Of course, the subtitles were still readable. Others complained that the movie was 'too fake.' Really? What gave it away? The people flying everywhere? During 'Spider-Man,' the lady sitting next to us gave a play-by-play of the punches thrown: "Oh, good one!" "Ew, yeah!" "Nice punch!" "Way to get him!" You get the picture.

So, we're sitting in the theatre in Vernon and although it was a little confusing getting to our seats (they had two small walls with a space in the middle which we eventually figured out to be wheelchair seating). We sat in the back row with the wheelchair space behind us. Why? No one can kick our seats.

About 15 minutes into the movie, I was conscious that someone was looking over my shoulder. There was a guy, at least 6'4" and 400 pounds standing behind us. I guess waiting for a time to sit down. Naturally, in our row. He doesn't fit into the seat, so the entire rows of seats heaves as he sits.

And then it begins.

This guy had throat problems that saw him hacking and coughing for the next 2 hours. The row of seats shook whenever he pounded his big meaty fist in the popcorn bag to grab another handful. and then he started shaking his drink to get the ice. No, no. He's not eating the ice. He sucks a couple cubes in his mouth, sloshes them around for a few minutes, then spits them back into the cup. PTOO! PTOO! PTOO! PTOO! Who knew ice cubes would last for over 45 minutes? At least he entertained everyone in the rows around him. No one had the guts to see when he'd be done. As it was, the movie finished before he did.

The drive home became a whole new nightmare. My daughter threw up her breakfast and morning snack just before lunch. there's no worse smell than vomit mixed with apple juice. I just about lost it myself. While I'm cleaning out the car and paying for the vacuuming, I'm griping about bashing my head on the door. My daughter asks what I'm upset about and my wife says, "you ruined his day."

Not true. My daughter didn't ruin the day. My soon-to-be ex-wife ruined the day. Again.