Thursday, July 3, 2014

Sedona-Old People and Douchebags....fml

So I briefly mentioned something about not being able to find anything open past 8pm (retirement community) and the guy yelling at me in the parking lot (super Arab douche) oh wait! I didn't!  So I'm going up this giant hill that also doubles as a parking lot for this restaurant.  I keep thinking to myself that Momma Kate kept saying to me in regards to the money i was given "spend it!  Enjoy yourself, it's all for you" haha, as if i needed to justify my defense budget spending even further (premium gas is expensive no matter where you go it turns out).  Thanks to healthy eating etc my expenses go up further than I ever wanted.  But I want as much to go to the kids as I can so I try to be frugal when it comes to hotels.  I digress, I'm struggling up this hill looking for the restaurant, a parking spot and to keep the bike going.  The clutch hates me, my eyes are tired and wind blasted, and the sun is quickly disappearing.  This guy sees me and literally jumps in front of my bike, so I swerve behind him and focus on keeping the bike from mating with the planet.  When I regain control I stop at the stop sign 5 feet behind me...oops. I look around for a spot to park, but all i notice is the idiot that jumped in front of me with his arms wide in a Jersey hug fusion yelling "what bro?! what! you wanna go?!".  With all the light glinting off of his greasy hair and his staggering walking, this guy needed a pal to prop him up to walk. C'mon.  So I ignore dumbdumb and park my bike, you know on the sidewalk. Only because there were like 10 other bikes there!  I'm walking towards the restaurant which is back where grease face was getting all sorts of tough, of course I'm thinking how to avoid a conflict, because I'm THAT hungry.  I want food, not fight.  No shit, there he is, arms wide like a drunk vulture "Oh you back bro?! You ready for this?! You wanna go?!" I'm standing there looking at this guy, there's people outside of the restaurant watching, so I guess full on murder is out of the question....hmmm, I walk towards this guy.  I just wanted food, a glass of red, and some freaking peace but this guy interrupted that.  So I wish to have words with him, and  maybe convince him a cab is a good choice.  I never got the chance, 3 or 4 steps into it he says "yeah, that's what i thought" and gets in his car.  I would've ran after his car urging him to get in a cab, but it's not Hollywood and I'm over it.  The host apologizes for that character, apparently hes a regular and loves booze.  Great, these people definitely deserve my money haha.  The time for relaxing and a nice meal is on!  Nope. Wrong again.  I sit at the bar and order an iced tea.  Yeah, the bar, iced tea, I know.  So after I do some old guy in a plaid shirt asks me if i'm one of "those homosexxxuals", you know carrying the x sound for wayyy too long.  I really just want food, why is there so much work involved?! So I calmly reply "no why? Are you gonna try to teach me something new?".  His buddy thought it was a riot and yappy shut up for the time being.  His friend was actually great, he asked where I was from and we entered into a friendly convo about life in general. The basics, shared some stories and such.  The bartender recommends a $70 glass of wine, so he actually serves me like 5 tastes of different wines. I told him I didn't want anything more than $7-$10, and he recommends a $70 GLASS.  Yeah, no pal.  So after the pre-game, I order a draft miller light.  I ordered an 8oz filet black and blue, with a kona crust, which came out perfectly.  The miller light was cold and refreshing.  The night ended well with a shot of coffee.  After I got back to my room I was lights out!

I woke up and opened my patio door and walked into cool air and fresh smells.  Like refreshing, and calming and just what you want when you wake up.  Not diesel exhaust, truck noise and or sirens.  The complex was split into 3 sections shaped like an L.  Each point of the L represents a section and the in-between is more or less paved. I walk from the bottom left of the L to the bottom right to breakfast.  The group most noticeable of course is the eastern European couple.  I love people watching so as I ready my eggs and bacon I watch out of the corner of my eye.  The guy is trying to get stuff for this obvious hot mess of a gf/fiance/wifey of his.  He first puts a plate of eggs in front of her.  Women complaining/whining is universal and you don't need a translator to tell you that this chick is a whiner.  Here's how I imagine this scenario translated......
Girl: Noooooo, the eggs are too runny and the bacon is too crispy. Don't they have any better?
Guy:  Let me check babe. You are so cute in the morning!
(Guy returns with plate of waffles and fruit)
Girl: NOOOOooooo the fruit juices are running with the waffles and then they'll get all syrupy and theres no eggs and where's my juice?! Babe! I can't eat like this.....
Guy: Ok babe, tell me what you'd like?
Girl: ughhh.....you should know....
Guy: Ok. How about eggs, on one plate, peaches in a bowl and chewy bacon on another plate?
Girl: don't forget my juice!
Guy: Ok!  (as he turns away he rolls his eyes and mutters something like 'holy f***, I shoulda left her in Beirut)
(Guy look absolutely miserable at this point, worn and ragged, like he's been to the Western front and back)

Of course by this point milk has practically come out of my nose as I snicker at the exchange, and try to look on as inconspicuously as possible.  Then I think to myself, "what the hell lets stir it up".  I'm about 3 bites from being done and catch the girls eye and send her a big ole wink.  She blushes and turns away.  Maybe it was the half chewed up food in my mouth that she saw? Or the boogies running down my face from all of the hot sauce I doused my eggs in? I think she thought I'd get her food right, so basically I look like a fast food employee from a 3rd world country.  hahaha this is how it concludes, translated by me....

Guy delivers armful of separate plates with variety of carefully separated and managed food groups with juice and milk balanced precariously in one hand.
Girl: (whispering like) SIT DOWN, that weird 'Merican over there that's eaten 3 plates of food just WINKED at me! DO SOMETHING! Hissssssss!
Guy: lolz, eat your food and be happy for a change.
Girl and Guy whisper feud ends up getting into what looks like an altercation and buddy ends up wearing the eggs.  I politely excuse myself from the table of myself and I.

I laugh and get my stuff ready.  It's kind of a process I've got nailed down hard.  When I get off of my bike at night I Take my backpack, camel back and tote bag filled with shoes/sandles/electronics into the room with my jacket, gloves, helmet, hat, and Oakleys.  The other saddle bag is filled with cleaning products, tools, rain gear and the cover.  After getting settled in my room, i go back out and cover the bike.  The process takes about 30 min if I'm messing around.  When I get up in the morning, I get food first always, then I pack the backpack with folded laundry, zip.  Camelbak I refill with bottled water provided by the front desk....3 Liters of it (litres if you are from down under i'm told lol).  I lay out my jacket, pack my gloves in my helmet along with my glasses. The totes are filled and everything gets lined up at the door in order of packing. Totes first, Big back, camelbak, jacket and helmet.  I make it in 1 trip every time.  The cover comes off and gets haphazardly folded once, then unfolded and carefully rolled as tight as possible.  Uncle Sam taught me a few things really well, good grease on your boots keep your feet dry, and tightly rolled clothes and stuff make that backpack smaller.  So in order to save space I roll that thing up like a tight....roll?  Done. Bag goes on the back seat with the back pad facing me to provide me with something to lean against. I put the camelbak on top with the shoulder straps unhooked and draped over the backpack.  I use the cargo net to bring the bag tight against the backrest for the "passenger".  This also holds the camelbak against the bag well and adds a layer of protection.  Then a second cargo net goes over the camelbak and squishes it against the top of the backpack, with the drinking hose unsecured for easy access.  Since I'm sweating my ass off already and it's 0845 I put 2 bungees together and thread them through the arms of the jacket and secure it against the bag.  Lost of padding to lean against.  I make sure the sunscreen is easily accessible in the camelbak pouch and be sure to lather it on heavy.  Chemo makes your skin hyper-pigmented i hear.  This completes packing. Then I use the $6 bottle of windscreen cleaner i buy from Harley and clean off the windshield and get as much of the bug grime off of the bike as possible.  Finally I start the bike, as long as that chrome is clean and glinty, I find myself satisfied with the aesthetics.  Thanks to the idiots at the bike shop who put 20W-50 in a Japanese bike, my clutch is on fire within 20 minutes and practically doesn't disengage.

I roll through town and started something new on my trip to Vegas.  I grab a liter of water from a gas station and slam it as though my life depends on it.  It might.  I also buy a gatorade and some sugary snacks, I don't fully understand the side effects of the drugs I force into my body but I know I'm not like normal, and the last thing I want is to black out because of low blood sugar or something haha, but like i said, I don't know anything.

I start rolling and get a text from Matt. Danny's older skinnier, more lady friendly brother.  Oh yeah, they both crack my shit up, Matt's more like me in more ways than I realized in Sedona, and find out later which makes me turn into a teary eyed wimp later on....AGAIN.  Damnit, I told you this chemo is doing something to me! Or maybe it's my reaction to the love and support I get daily from so many?  Nope, gotta suppress that feeling, no room to feel only drive.  My route takes me through Denver, where Matt has his beautiful family, or I can avoid the mountains and take the somewhat more conservative route and back through Oklahoma and Missouri.....well, if you claim to know me, why the hell do I want boring?  I don't.  Lets go.

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