About a month ago or so my girlfriend told me that I needed to make sure that I had the entire Memorial Day weekend free. It was a day off work and we had from Friday night after work until Tuesday morning off. No books, no pens, laptops, mouse pads, div tags, or code for an entire three day weekend. She said that she wanted to plan a weekend getaway. And based on her ability to plan the Valentine’s Day getaway, which was only a normal two day weekend, I figured why not give her a chance. So I told her that I would leave the weekend open from meetings and activities and let her plan what she wanted. But all the while I figured she would plan it and then tell me. I was sadly mistaken.
In the weeks leading up to it she told more people than I can count. One of those people was gRegor. (yes, that is spelled correctly. Do not ask me why he spells it that way.) He knew and he rubbed it in that he knew. Then one night he cracked. He told me. He said, “OK, Ricky, I will tell you where you are going. You are going to Weiner Dog Land.” Hence the picture. (That is an absolutely adorable picture too. I want to take that dog and cuddle all night!)
So that did nothing but make me mad. I kept bugging Sheryl to tell me where we were going but I got nothing from her. She would not give me a hint other than that it was within two and eight hours by car. So that excluded Vegas, which would have been awesome, New York, anywhere in Florida, and even Mexico. (You know how much fun a night in Tijuana is? If you do please let me know; as for I do not.) I figured since we had discussed it before that Nashville was the only solution. We had time to drive down there and see everything we both would want to see and we could enjoy our time. But when we hopped in the car, after my twenty minutes of flirting with the Speedway attendant (she was cute) we headed north. So Nashville was out.
We kept driving and driving and driving and were starring at nothing but billboards and corn fields. I was so confused that the only thing that I thought it could mean was a trip to Chicago. But when we started to head East I knew that was out too. About four hours in we pass through a town called Defiance and I was pretty sold that she was either lost or she was going to slit my throat. Who names a town Defiance? (There was a road named Independence Road in the town of Defiance. Ironic?) This was the kind of town that people do not shower daily, or weekly, and that wear wife beaters because they think they are in fashion. The hillbilly I am dating my sister type.
So we decide to stop in Defiance at a gas station. It was a chance to have a bathroom break and to let me drive. Let me drive? Are you kidding me? This is not an episode of Dexter here; I do not want to drive to my own death. But surely enough we got through Defiance and onto some major lane highways. When all of a sudden I see a sign that says Cedar Point next right. Immediately I went to from confusion and frustration to excitement and glee. This is where she finally admitted that we were in fact going to Cedar Point. But not until Sunday.
So it is Friday night and we are driving to the hotel when she tells me that she is not out of the woods yet. That she was not going to tell me where we were going on Saturday either. So I went back to the frustration mode. The only thing that kept me sane was the thoughts of front seat Millennium Force. So I kept my patience and just put my trust back in the hands of the passenger. (Why was I driving again? This was her surprise trip.)
We finally make it to Sandusky and pull into our hotel which was quite nice; from the outside. Please stay tuned to part two as I discuss the overall census of the hotel experience.