I am at my hotel in Buffalo, hesitant to turn off the TV and the lights and to allow the quiet darkness to lull me to sleep. More on that in a moment...
We had a great visit with family this weekend. We ate WAY too much ice cream at Alethea's (which has to be the best ice cream parlor in the Buffalo area), managed to completely surprise my grandparents with the anniversary party, and reminisced and told stories while we hung out in their log cabin home (Eric and I are certain that house was bigger when we were kids...).
But our trip hasn’t been free of the occasional snag. As we were checking in at the airport on Saturday, the woman behind the desk noticed that Rick’s driver’s license was expired. Apparently Texas no longer sends a notice when your license is about to expire, and we’re expected to stay on top of this sort of thing. The only problem is, most people don’t think to look at their licenses very often. In fact, about the only time I pull mine out of my wallet is when I’m getting ready to board a plane. Or when I order alcohol and I get carded. (Which DOES still happen. Shut up, Faisal…)
After a tense moment in which we were uncertain Rick would be allowed to board the plane, we were given the okay and proceeded to security. At this point, Rick found out he’d been selected for an extra-special security screening, and as my parents and I hung out near the bookstore, a TSA agent went through everything in his backpack and discovered a forgotten pocketknife. While the agent kept a close watch on the knife, Rick gave me his backpack to hold, then reclaimed his knife from the agent and ran with it out to the car (kids – don’t ever run with knives…). When he finally made it to the gate some time later, he was limping. All that running had caused his ankle to give out and he twisted it.
Our flights, fortunately, were fairly uneventful. But once we arrived at the Buffalo airport, we went to the rental car counter where my dad had made a reservation, and were told they were out of cars. This, of course, conjured up memories of “Seinfeld,” and the episode where Jerry tries to pick up his reserved rental car, only to find out there are no cars to rent. He tries to explain the meaning of “reservation” to the woman behind the desk, who claims to know the definition of the word, but Jerry replies, “I don’t think you do.” What, exactly, is the point of a reservation if nothing is actually reserved? After a few back-and-forth conversations between our rental place and the rental place next-door, we were able to procure a minivan from another company.
We then proceeded to dinner, where we met up with my mom’s cousin and her husband. Everyone except me ordered roast beef on kummelweck – a kind of roll dotted with salt and caraway seeds. “Beef on weck” is one of the specialties Buffalo is known for – less well-known than Buffalo wings, obviously, as I’ve never seen beef on weck outside of Western New York. And while my mom swore that the last time she’d had the beef on weck at this particular restaurant it was perfect, the dinners served last night were less-than-edible. No one ate much, but since we headed to Alethea’s afterwards anyway, we certainly didn’t end the night hungry.
At 11:30, Rick and I were finally exhausted from a day spent traveling, and, in our quiet hotel room, prepared to fall asleep. Through the thin wall behind us, I heard a faint noise that Rick at first described as sounding like “an owl.” But after a few seconds the noise got louder, and it was quite apparent that what we heard had nothing to do with ornithology. The couple next door was, um, sharing way too many sounds with us, which I shall not reproduce here. They, however, may be reproducing in about nine months or so…
Which brings me to tonight, and my hesitancy to try to fall asleep just yet. Not that I have any idea if those two are still staying here, but we noticed the “do not disturb” sign was on the door when we got back to our room, and I’d just rather not have to be a witness to that kind of thing again. Maybe I should keep the TV on, just in case…
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