Welcome to the Hotel California

Friday saw us heading out early to Sacramento for Uncle Jack's wake. I had never met Uncle Jack but I know he was a spitfire just from the stories I heard. (Plus, he would have to be to survive in this clan.)

I packed some "road food" aka grapes,cliff bars, rice chips, bananas and turkey wraps and we hit the road.
Oh wait... we didn't.

We tried to leave at 8:30am (it's a roughly 10 hour drive to Sac from Vegas) and Chris got a message that his prescription was ready at the pharmacy. We arrived at Target to find the pharmacy didn't open until 9am. Crap. Oh wait, let's go get fuel and come back. Right?

We got fuel and came back. Pharmacy still closed. It's 8:45. Let's go eat our turkey wraps.

We walk back in to Target for the third time. Pharmacy is open. Chris asks if I have my purse to pay for the script. Yes. But the pharmacy still needs Chris's ID and Insurance card. Chris goes back to the car. Again.

Prescription is paid for. We get in the car. Shit. You know what we are forgetting? Drinks. Let's go back in to Target again for some water. Chris can't stop laughing at us. I'm afraid Paul Blart Target Cop is going to roll up on his tri-cycle (Yes, the Target security guys here have 3 wheeled segway thingies) because we are so suspiscious. We didn't get on the road until 9:30.

But we spent the day mostly like this. Or at least I did :)

We arrived in Sacramento at 6:30. The drive really wasn't as horrible as it sounds. Except that I kept yelling at imaginary Californians for leaving so much plastic crap all over the highways. I mean seriously, it's like California never met a piece of plastic it didn't want to tie to tumbleweed and send rolling down the highway. This shit doesn't fly in Washington. In Washington we pick up garbage on the highway, decopage it, and post it on Pinterest.

It was wonderful to visit with Chris's family. Most of which we hadn't seen in years. His mother and grandma came down from Seattle too and they hadn't seen Chris since Thanksgiving. We got to meet all of his Aunt Dennie's adorable children. Colbie, the youngest, really took a liking to Chris wouldn't leave him alone. Kids always love Chris. I call him the BFG. Which is in reference to a book that nobody but me read as a kid I guess. 

And I met the new love of my life (or weekend)... Bodhi.

Bodhi and I have never met before but he almost instantly came and crawled up on my lap. He must know I like a man with a mohawk. I was on the Prednisone and am supposed to stay away from sick people, and Bodhi was pretty sick but I so didn't care. Getting sick would have been worth it.

This is where it gets good.

Because everyone was sick in that house, Chris and I opted to stay in a hotel. We hadn't slept on an actual bed in weeks and I was trying to limit my time around the sick. I didn't want to chance a virus on the same week I am to start my period AND possibly have a Spinal Tap. A girl can only handle so much.

We checked in the Super 8 Sacramento because it wasn't far down the road. Plus it was 11 o'clock and we just needed to sleep a few hours, luxury accomodations were not a priority. The desk clerk was stoned. And I mean  "Heh....What's up?... (long period of silence).... heh" kind of stoned. But if I worked graveyard at the Sacramento Super 8 I'd be stoned too. Chris was out in the car getting the bags while I checked in.

Then a young soldier, in his army cami's, exits the elevator with what is clearly a hooker. And this happens...

Stoner : Hey, nice to see you again. heh. heh.

Hooker: Yeah, you too. I'll be around more often.

(soldier hangs his head, refuses to make eye contact)

Stoner: Great. Let's talk more later. heh. heh

Hooker: Yeah, Ill be here more. Later boo.

Enter Chris, stage left

Then Stoner gives us the room keys and receipt.

Me: Are you going to tell me what room we are in?

Stoner: Heh. Awww... man...You know how it is?

Me: Yeah. Are you going to tell me my room number?

Stoner: (grabs receipt) ...(long pause) 308

Me: Thanks

We enter the elevator. I turn to Chris and say " you wouldn't believe..." and he interrupts" Oh yeah, I saw them outside. And you know what? I don't give a fuuuccck."

After 10 days of sleeping on a matt on the floor, that was the most comfortable bed I ever slept on.

We had the complimentary breakfast at the hotel. Waffles. The whole seating area was full of teenage Mormons quizzing each other on bible verses. It was very competitive. They were scolding each other for leaving out thy's and subbing them with the's. Hard to believe it was the same hotel we checked in to. When they left they were replaced with pre-teen cheerleaders.

OMG! How could you forget your makeup brushes!? It's like the most important weekend of your whole life!

One time my parents like said we were going to my grandparents and we went to like Disneyland instead. What if you like thought you were going to Disneyland and like you had to go to your grandparents instead?  Like OMG that's like a nightmare!

We left soon after.

After we grabbed our crap and was heading out the door of our hotel room, something caught my eye.

Me: Holy shit. There is blood on the toilet bowl.

Chris: What?

(Enter Chris stage right)

Chris: What the fuck is that?

(We stare at the red blood like substance that is on the outer rim of the toilet bowl. Then we notice the red fluid running down the back of the tank.)

Me: That's fucking disgusting. I'm not opening the back of that toilet tank. NOT IT.

Chris: Yeah, I saw a little blood drop on the floor in front of the toilet and I threw a towel over it so you wouldn't freak out about it. I was too tired to care about the housekeeping.

Me: What? Ew. Gross. Let me see.

(We move the towels off the floor. We see the red smear on the tile behind the toilet.)

Me: I'm not going near that toilet tank. Not it, not it, not it!

Chris: I think it's toilet grout.

Me: I think it's a biohazard. Let's go to the desk.

I told the gentleman at the front desk. He looked shocked and disgusted, rightly so. Chris and I escorted him up to the room where he was all "What the fuck?"  He got close enough to look, but you could see the horror on his face.

Desk Dude: I know what it is

Me: Blood

Chris: Toilet grout.

Desk Dude: Nail polish.

Umm say what? Nice try desk dude. He tried to convince us that it was nail polish. Only a man would make that up. Every girl know that nail polish is viscous! You can't smear it across tile and if it was dripping down a toilet there would be a little bubble at the end! EW EW EW!

And yes, I thought about taking a picture of it. But what if there was remains in the toilet tank and I fucking facebooked it? Not cool.

But Chris swears it wasn't blood. And if anyone knows about blood, it's Chris.

And in case you were wondering, we stayed at the Hilton on Saturday night. Lesson learned.