We had unpacked nearly everything. The place was looking good. Pictures up, and after three hours of hell the wood and glass sculpture was hung. This all meant we needed to go to San Diego and get the rest of our clothes, orchids, kitchen stuff, and odds and ends. We planned to rent a trailer, which would be cheaper than a truck. Also that way only buying gas for one vehicle. Well that didn’t go well.
Marty and Richard went to pick up the trailer. The rent on the trailer was say $300 dollars. But ,”Oh we forgot to tell you the trailer hitch costs another $400.” They came home without the trailer. We couldn’t rent a van, they only rent vans for round trips. I suggested a SUV. So we did.
It had a compartment on the floor, like a drug secret place. We filled that up with small items, and then filled it with orchids and boxes. I drove our car and it was full of boxes and suitcases. Even the front seat was full. We were ready to come home with almost the last of our stuff. (We left some of Marty’s glass, and other things I have no idea what they are)
Monday morning Richard asked what we would do if the two GPS take different routes. We laughed and said go with the front vehicle. And we pulled out. Less than 1/4 of a mile a car pulls in front of me, and Marty is out of sight. The dumb woman in front of me stopped in the road to text. She had no idea I was behind her. I honk, yell at her and head for the highway. No sign of Marty. I get on 94, and head to LA and all points north. I was hitting 80 and still no Marty. Wouldn’t he have driven slowly until I caught up? NO. I phoned him and asked very sweetly, “Where the hell are you??!!” He is on 8. I should get on 8. Well, I had already passed that exit. I was headed for 5. He then said I should get on 805. Really, passed that one too. One hour and a half later we found each other, on 405.
I was mad as a wet hen. And in full panic attack mode. Agoraphobics do not do well when the plan fails. We are terrified, and have been known to pass out. I held it together and only cried a little. By lunch time I had decided to let him live.
The drive continues I led some, he led some. And then it happened. Marty is leading, we are on 5 and the road splits to go to 99. I see the sign, hear the GPS, and watch Marty stay in the left lane and we are taking a right exit. I honk, and honk and then leave him and go on 5. I called and, oh I won’t say what I said. It was rude and ugly. He didn’t know I wasn’t behind him, he didn’t know he was on 99. He was just driving north. That time he caught up with me in about 20 minutes.
Now none of Marty leaving me behind was a surprise. He had done this for 45 years. He drives and you better keep up. Before GPS and cell phones it was really terrifying. When I told our son, Erik, about the trip, he said, “That sounds like Dad.” And I said, “ He is consistent.”