Holy humidity, Batman.
As I stepped off the plane at Corpus Christi International I was met with a wave that can only be described as wet air, kind of like a bitch slap from Mexico.
The airport was pretty quiet upon our arrival as one of the last flights of the day. I made my way to the other end of fairly small airport and stood in line at the rental desk. They had a car reserved for me.
"Do you want an upgrade?" She asked.
"How much," I asked her.
"40 bucks," she said. "That will get you an Impala."
I didn't really feel it was necessary considering I was only going to have the car for about 12 hours. She got some relevant information and then handed me the keys to a Ford Focus. I was supposed to inspect the car and if there were issues alert the clerk who would note the issues. If no issues were present I could just take off.
I walked to the car and laughed into the darkness of the lot. I could have probably picked it up and put it in my backpack. I lifted the hatch (yes, a little hatch) and tossed my luggage in before making my way around the car. That's when I found a huge scratch down the side. Damn. I noted the scratch and then walked back in to have the person initial it. Once that fiasco was over I was on my way. I had only lost six pounds by now because of the sweat rolling.
Getting into this car was like shoving a sleeping bag into the carrying bag after you've slept in it. It was awkward and difficult. I hit my knee on the steering wheel, and then my other knee on the dash in front of me. This was not something I would own. Ever. I made that call before I even put the key in the ignition. I started it up and began my three mile journey to the hotel. The drive there was easy, but I felt like something was just not right. When I would stop at a light it would sound funny.
Then it hit me. I'm driving a freaking hybrid. It shuts off and uses a battery pack or something when you go below a certain RPM. I hated it. I pulled into the hotel, parked and got out - smacking my knees again and banging my head as I exited the clown car. I grabbed my stuff and headed in. It was hot. It was miserable. It was late.
The gal at the front desk got me checked in fairly quickly, but I could tell this was going to be an interesting stay as I passed nine people in a hot tub - drinking. There was evidently a conference going on and these people didn't get out much. I finally winded my way to the elevator, which was about a quarter mile away from the actual front desk and headed up a floor. Then I walked all the way to the end, and around the corner to my room. As I opened the door it was pitch dark, so I hit a light and stood and stared. I had now managed to get myself a clown car room, too. I think if I tried I could have touched both walls standing in the middle of the bed. It didn't matter. It was a bed, and it had a shower. That's all I really cared about. I turned the air conditioning way down to try and cool off the fresh hell I had entered and then started to get ready for bed.
The air conditioner was so loud I couldn't hear people running up and down the hall for very long. Then again, I was tired so I fell asleep. What seemed like about five minutes later my alarm rang and it was time to get up, drive to a meeting, and hop back on a plane. I put the address in of the meeting facility and it showed it was a quick 13 miles from my hotel. I got back into the tin can and this time I only smacked my knee once and managed to duck - and off I went.
As I drove I realized that the area is flat. Like, Illinois flat. They don't mow any ditches, so waving on the sides of the road was close to six foot tall grass, or weeds. Once I got close to the destination I could see it, but I also noticed a McDonald's and I was famished. I pulled in and got out of the rolling death trap and went in to grab breakfast, but my first stop was the gas station portion. I was in desperate need for some $9 Tylenol. I had been fighting a headache and my back is out - and it makes flying and travel in general brutal.
"Do you sell Tylenol," I asked.
"Si," she answered. Shit. I was going to need to know Spanish. Ah, but I did know si is yes. She pointed to the small packs. "Dos, per."
OK, so we're talking Spanglish. I maybe could get through this. I did some math in my head and held up six fingers. She counted six and put them on the counter. It only cost me about $7, and I figured it was due to the proximity of Mexico and the supply ratio. I digress. I bought the Tylenol and went back to the other side for breakfast. I needed a Coke, and added a yogurt and fruit parfait because I'm trying to eat healthy. I snarfed it down and got back to the hacky sack on wheels and drove a short distance to the facility.
As I pulled in I noticed what had to be a prisoner with a weed whacker. My first instinct was to tell him to hit the roadsides, but that probably wasn't safe. The weeds were so high it would hide him (on second thought) - even though he was wearing black and white stripes. They were horizontal so he wasn't to be mistaken for a referee.
After my meeting I stopped to fill up at the same gas station/McDonalds because the rental car agreement states you have to fill the tank within 10 miles of the airport. During breakfast I had put in the directions and that station was exactly 10 miles. I put $8.75 in the tank because I didn't have a bag of rice handy, and was on down the road.
Once I was back to the airport I headed to get my boarding pass and tackle security. It only took a combined 10 seconds because I was the only one. That's right. I was the only one going through security. I had to make sure that's where I was even supposed to be. That's never happened before, and I have flown into some pretty small airports.
I was just happy to see a normal sized plane. I wasn't up for any more clown car hostage situations.
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