C'était un rendez-vous
My sister once again landed in the hospital* with the stomach problem I've detailed here before (here for the gory details; the described symptomology is dead on); thus, yesterday, I found myself heading up to Johns Hopkins. efbq was already there, and she had our car; my mother took Kid-2 and me, and took her sweet time in doing so. We pulled into the parking garage there, and I was shocked to learn it was exactly 6:30 pm. Our call, in College Park, was 7pm; the curtain went up at 8pm. We were parked two blocks away from Johns Hopkins, and my mother has had a stroke in the past - she simply can't run, or even walk that fast.
Then it got worse. We got inside, got to her room to get efbq (my sister was asleep), excused ourselves and headed back out the door, and discovered that a) efbq parked us five blocks away in the other direction, and b) she didn't have the money to get out of the garage. 6:48 pm.
Okay. Told DW and Kid-2 to wait there at the front entrance to JHH. Remembered that there was an ATM just inside the front door; hit that and ran, literally. Sprinted the length of JHH out the other side, trying to recall from some previous visits where the shortcut to the parking garage was. Found it, found the car, started it...and then learned we had perhaps one gallon of gas. 6:55 pm.
Drove to the front gate, played dodge 'em on Wolfe St. with a Virginia driver who had absolutely no clue what she was doing and was stopping and weaving in the middle of the street. Picked Fayette to get out of the city because I thought I remembered a gas station on it - and I was right. Got minimum amount of gas. 7:10 pm.
Fayette to St. Paul to Conway, hit what seemed like every single damned red light out of the city. Realized the cast had started warm-ups by the time I reached Pratt Street. Passed Camden Yards at 7:22 pm, merged off 395 out of the city onto 95 heading south at 7:23 pm. I announced at that time the employment of some special driving techniques; there was the canonical summoning of every secret sacred ounce of Claremont** with extra invocations of Fahrvergnügen, despite the fact that I was in a stodgy Buick, and was counting on that fact to keep from being arrested on the way down. Kid-the-Second was heavy with the snark, particularly, for some reason, about my vehicular velocity and my demonstration of superior handling. DW and I told her to shaddap. (All the same, Kid-2 got fully into costume while in the back seat. Kid-2 is smart.)
Took the off-ramp onto Rt. 1 from 95 directly at about 7:49 pm; continued some special driving even while passing a cop (who'd pwned someone else) down Rt. 1; squealed into the lot at the venue at 7:54 pm.
I was in costume and ready to go directly at 7:56 pm. chickenhat had thoughtfully held curtain for five minutes, so I had a bit of time to calm down.
Not one to toot mine own horn, but I am gonna call epic win for myself.
* She got out today, and is doing much better.
** Spot the reference, +10 pts. For an earlier reference, contained in the title, I mentioned it first back here, though the link to the referenced movie itself is dead; this one's still working, and is worth every packet. Yeah, it was kinda like that.
Then it got worse. We got inside, got to her room to get efbq (my sister was asleep), excused ourselves and headed back out the door, and discovered that a) efbq parked us five blocks away in the other direction, and b) she didn't have the money to get out of the garage. 6:48 pm.
Okay. Told DW and Kid-2 to wait there at the front entrance to JHH. Remembered that there was an ATM just inside the front door; hit that and ran, literally. Sprinted the length of JHH out the other side, trying to recall from some previous visits where the shortcut to the parking garage was. Found it, found the car, started it...and then learned we had perhaps one gallon of gas. 6:55 pm.
Drove to the front gate, played dodge 'em on Wolfe St. with a Virginia driver who had absolutely no clue what she was doing and was stopping and weaving in the middle of the street. Picked Fayette to get out of the city because I thought I remembered a gas station on it - and I was right. Got minimum amount of gas. 7:10 pm.
Fayette to St. Paul to Conway, hit what seemed like every single damned red light out of the city. Realized the cast had started warm-ups by the time I reached Pratt Street. Passed Camden Yards at 7:22 pm, merged off 395 out of the city onto 95 heading south at 7:23 pm. I announced at that time the employment of some special driving techniques; there was the canonical summoning of every secret sacred ounce of Claremont** with extra invocations of Fahrvergnügen, despite the fact that I was in a stodgy Buick, and was counting on that fact to keep from being arrested on the way down. Kid-the-Second was heavy with the snark, particularly, for some reason, about my vehicular velocity and my demonstration of superior handling. DW and I told her to shaddap. (All the same, Kid-2 got fully into costume while in the back seat. Kid-2 is smart.)
Took the off-ramp onto Rt. 1 from 95 directly at about 7:49 pm; continued some special driving even while passing a cop (who'd pwned someone else) down Rt. 1; squealed into the lot at the venue at 7:54 pm.
I was in costume and ready to go directly at 7:56 pm. chickenhat had thoughtfully held curtain for five minutes, so I had a bit of time to calm down.
Not one to toot mine own horn, but I am gonna call epic win for myself.
* She got out today, and is doing much better.
** Spot the reference, +10 pts. For an earlier reference, contained in the title, I mentioned it first back here, though the link to the referenced movie itself is dead; this one's still working, and is worth every packet. Yeah, it was kinda like that.