CERTIFICATE OF CONFUSION

Into the car we go, suitcases packed in the back tightly and all the confirmations for the car rental, and the airline, along with a certificate for a weekend at the Inn at Fox Hollow, for a very swanky end of our vacation when we return to NY, are in place in TLW’s (The Little Woman) carry on. I’m in my traveling vest with all the pockets filled so that all I need to do is empty drop the vest with my shoes in the tray as we go through the metal detectors before boarding.

WE are ready!

Following the directions to the long term parking at the nearby airport parking establishment just past the JFK on the Belt Parkway, I pull in and ask TLW for the confirmation and in I go. TLW in her usual efficiency has taken care of the electronic part of the trip, and I would take care of the follow through.

I go into the building and amid 50.000 sets of car keys is this young fellow with other parolees who work there.

“Del Bloggolo” I say.

Looking in his computer he searches.

“How do you spell it?”

I spell out the name and his flat peaked cap is pushed back a little as he continues to search, calling over his boss, who assists in the search.

TLW suddenly shows up and joins in on the fun.

“I’m sorry, we don’t seem to have it in our records!”

TLW goes out to the car and searches in her carry on, coming back with the conformation record and a worried look on her face.

TLW asks if we would be able to still park, and he says yes. He takes the conformation form TLW and finishes up the arrangements. We head back toward the car for out luggage to be loaded onto the van and I say:

“Well, that takes care of that!”

“Well I think you are going to kill me!” she says.

“Why?”

“I took the wrong envelope with me for the Inn at Fox Hollow for when we return!” she says.

“Oh! Well, we can maybe make some phone calls when we get to LA and I’ll take care of it, don’t worry, it is not the end of the world, it will work out.” I say.

I of course don’t believe myself, and think she doesn’t either, but we can’t make her feel bad after all she did to take care of things. Crap happens, and we head to the airport.

The weekend would include a suite in their best suite, the Royal Suite, and dinner and breakfast the next morning, and frankly, I was looking forward to it as much as she was, so I was determined to try to fix it.

We enter the airport and we forget about it for the time being.