Murphy’s Law Takes Vacation — The World’s Longest Dream Review (Part One)featured

Murphy’s Law (n): Humorous axiom stating that anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

Well, not everything went wrong.

But before we get into that, a little background on this trip: after our February trip on the Valor, I started a new job (a week after I got out of the hospital for the whole blood clot that wasn’t thing). We forewent our annual May cruise because I wasn’t comfortable taking a significant amount of time off two months into a new job (even though I do have uncapped PTO days…one of the many things I love about my job) and instead, I jetted off to San Francisco with one of my friends for a couple days at the end of May. Grandma turned 90 in May and we always told her we’d go to Disney World to celebrate her 90th (she loved Disney World), and Stephanie was itching to get on a cruise, so we started planning for an October cruise last summer. Stephanie had really wanted to go on the Carnival Dream because it was so different than the other ships we’ve been on and going in October would allow us to hit up Food and Wine Festival at Disney World *and* Mickey’s Not So Scary Halloween Party *and* it was free dining at Disney World during that time. The pieces all fell into place. It would be the trip to end all trips: six days at Disney World, seven days on-board the Dream to the western Caribbean (where we’d be able to visit Costa Maya for the first time since 2005), and tons of R&R for me because I had been put up for promotion the month before we left and was fully promoted the week before we left and I had been put through the stress wringer at work.

And then we left.

Murphy first came to visit a few days we left in the form of Tropical Storm Rina, which was wreaking havoc on, you guessed it, the western Caribbean. Still, we remained hopeful that she’d dissipate or weaken and that we’d get some sun in our tropical ports of call.

The plan was to leave late Friday night/early Saturday morning. Stephanie and Mom were off work early so they could rest. Me? I ended up working late tying up all my loose ends. Oh Murphy. I didn’t end up getting any sleep before our 12-hour drive to Atlanta. I figured I’d sleep in the car at some point (not for too long, of course. Doctor’s orders to move my legs constantly and never be in one position for too long). After some last minute packing and getting the (rental) mini-van, we left our house around midnight, making a quick stop at McDonald’s so Stephanie and Mom could get some diet Cokes for the ride before getting on our way.

We figured leaving early would get us to Atlanta no later than 1:00 pm, which would afford us time to explore (which, if you’ve been a long-time reader of this blog, you’ll know how much we love our Atlanta time). Murphy and his law had some other plans for us.

I fell asleep sometime around 3:00 am when we were somewhere in Indiana. I woke up sometime around 5:30 am to Mom and Stephanie freaking the flip out. A truck in front of us had blown a tire and a piece of the blown tire struck our (rental) car at full force, and something was making a really unhealthy sound. We pulled over and yup…sure enough, the blown tire tore off our front fender. The car was basically undriveable…and we were in Bumblefuck, Indiana.

We pulled off at the next exit and pulled into the first open gas station we could find. Mom got on the phone with Alamo (the rental agency) and her car insurance people (she had declined Alamo’s insurance, but was covered on her own auto insurance and by her credit card). She explained to them that we had travel reservations and that we also had our grandma in the car with us, and they promised to have us a car by 9:00 am. 9:00 am turned into 11:00 am. 11:00 am turned into 12:00 pm and it was well past 1:00 pm until they actually got us another car, despite the fact that there were THREE Alamo agency’s within a 40-mile radius of the gas station we were stranded at in Bumblefuck, Indiana. They wanted us to take a cab (with two weeks worth of luggage and wheelchair-bound grandma) to their agency, but that wouldn’t have worked, so they just left us there until it was convenient for them to get us a car. Really, shame on you, Alamo. Customer service at its absolute worst. I could have walked to your nearest kiosk faster. To the credit to the people of Bumblefuck, Indiana (the actual town name escapes me, though I’m sure Stephanie knows and will never forget it), they were so nice and kind, trying to help us with the car, offering to get us breakfast, passing over some kind words. There was a Cracker Barrel a stones throw from the gas station, so Stephanie and I grabbed breakfast for all of us. I napped a bit. But I had a bitter taste towards Alamo in my mouth for a long time after this.

Welcome to Hell

I just found this highly amusing. In the gas station bathroom in Bumblefuck, Indiana

Thank heavens for the familiarity of a Cracker Barrel

Once we were secure in the new car, we tried to haul ass to Atlanta, minimizing our stops to just stops for gas, but it was still well into the evening when we hit Georgia. In an effort to save time, I even skipped my obligatory stop at the Pelham Stucky’s.

Peace out, Pelham

We *finally* hit Buckhead around 8:00 pm. I needed food, I needed a shower and frankly, I needed to yell at someone or something for the happenings of the past 15 hours. We checked into the Hyatt Place Buckhead (scored on Priceline for ~$60 a night). The Hyatt Place was a 3.5 star hotel (as opposed to the 4 star we usually stay in) because Stephanie wanted to try something different out. And while the staff was exceedingly nice (they offered to let me choose any floor to stay on) and the room was huge, the accommodations were just okay and the hotel was crowded with rowdy college students looking to party (which would normally be at least somewhat my pace if the past 15 hours hadn’t occurred). Stephanie thought it would have been nicer if it didn’t attract such a rowdy crowd and the walls of the room weren’t so thin. But as it was, the room was more than spacious enough to fit the four of us and it was clean.

Mom and grandma crashed when we got settled in the room. Stephanie and I ran to Target before they closed to get some last-minute stuff that we’d forgotten. Since it was late and we were starving, I broke my self-imposed only eating what the locals eat rule and we headed to Buffalo Wild Wings. It was open, it was there and that standard bar grub was like the best thing I’d ever tasted since it’d been hours since my kids pancake meal at Cracker Barrel.

We headed back to the hotel with wings and burgers for Mom and grandma. I showered, played around on my laptop (free wi-fi, y’all!) and finally crashed around midnight.

And that Murphy? Yeah. He wasn’t done with us quite yet.