To the Bold and Foolish Lambs (Part I)

“Sir, are you changing your ticket?”

As with most of my “adventures,” this one too begins with a (now ubiquitous), “Wha?”

“Your ticket, sir, is actually for tomorrow.”

Shit. I knew I should’ve learned how to read calendars way back in high school. Instead I spent all my time watching slasher films and the Simpsons; neither of which are especially big on continuity. I had remembered ordering my return ticket for Wednesday, but when picking up my departure ticket the lady at the counter clearly said, “We’ll see you back on Tuesday.”

I guess I could’ve double-checked it, maybe just single-checked it. Or just asked the counter lady to double-check before I walked away confused. But that course of action sounded a lot like work, and this was the first day of my vacation.

Instead I climbed on the boat, stowed my return ticket away, and proceeded to dream of ways to escape the cabin I was locked in. I was seated by a sober yenta who, halfway through 50 First Dates, asks her husband, “So she can’t remember anything that’s happened before?” This ain’t the Matrix honey! It’s just a slightly rehashed Groundhog’s Day!

So now it’s day four of Vacation 2011 and the wheels are falling off the (admittedly) poorly-planned endeavor.

It’s situations such as these that cause me to shave whenever I might use any sort of mass transportation (trains, planes, and, in this case, ferries). This act is by no means necessary, but when you travel with nothing but a couple vials of insulin, a notebook, and a dream; it helps to look as nice as possible for when distress rears its ugly head.

(An ATM card loaded with cash is also a considerable help.)

Case in point: the kindly lady with the boarding passes, the one who started off this blog, switched my ticket for me; that’s her job. She also charged me the $25 fee for doing so; also her job. She then deducted the fee I paid for parking that I wouldn’t be using; a courtesy that’s probably not in her job description. Is it “right?,” of course, but most travelers would be too concerned with making it home on time to worry about eight bucks.

That’s what a clean-shaven face buys you in our marketplace.

Me and my new best friend!

Now the tenses used throughout the opening don’t lie; I’ve committed this mistake before. Most memorably at Seattle International Airport, where I once capped off a week of sleeping in scary motels run by men with wooden teeth by showing up to my 12 AM flight at noon.

Apparently that’s a no-no. Those letters after the numbers, the AM/PM, those mean something. Signify something. Something important. Such as when you’re supposed to arrive for a flight. Up to that point, I was just checking all my tickets for the all important BM. ‘Cuz that’s a flight I’m not going to fly on!

[To the Bold and Foolish Lambs Parts II and III (a/k/a the ‘C’ is for Cookie edition) are now up too!]

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3 Responses to “To the Bold and Foolish Lambs (Part I)”

  1. I like this a lot. Great vacation, eh?

    And you and your new best friend look oh-so-good!

  2. Really Exciting ysekali, nice collection, but a little creepy:)

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