Our family has recently returned
from a month long trip to the USA. Shit
happened on the trip so often that I had to create numerous blogs to fit it all
in, lest it become my next novel. This is
the first blog of the trip.
We had to wait an extra year for
Miss Marvellous to complete Year 12.
During the wait, we started to organise ourselves. We applied for our USA VISAs in February and hit
our first snag during this initial stage.
Unfortunately Captain Fantastic (a.k.a. Felonious) had some trouble
organising his VISA due to an outstanding warrant for his arrest in
Nevada. Don’t panic, it’s not as
sinister as it sounds. He incurred a
speeding fine in 1988 and in the USA, when you get a speeding fine, you don’t
get handed a piece of paper with a notification of your offence and the loss of
demerit points, you have to attend court.
The Captain did not attend said court appearance due to the fact that he
had returned home to Australia and stupidly, didn’t pay the fine or advise US
officials…possibly because he was young and stupid and couldn’t think beyond
his current circumstances. 30 years
later, it came back to bite him on the arse.
So the kids and I had our VISAs,
we just had to wait for the Captain to jump some hoops before he could be
granted his. Before he could attempt to
gain his VISA he first had to provide an Australian Criminal Report. He was advised by the local constabulary that
this piece of paper would take 10 working days…it took 6 bloody weeks because
every Aussie and his dog was planning to join us in the USA. After this documentation finally arrived and
the Captain’s honour was reinstated, the lengthy process of having the scanned
document and passport verified in the USA
In April, while we patiently
waited and tried not to fret, the Captain became concerned that we would all
miss out on the holiday, or that the cost would bounce outside of affordability
if it was left too long to book flights, so he called me at work and suggested
he go ahead and book the kids and I passage in a flying machine. Of course, this was out of the question as
it’s not a family holiday without Dad.
The captain advised that this was not my call and he would like to put
it to the kids. I agreed but warned that
the children would have the same reaction as me because there was no way they would
want to go to the USA without their father.
Turns out I have no fucking idea because he called a family meeting that
very night and put it to the kids and whilst I sat there with my arms crossed
and a smirk on my face because he just doesn’t know our kids like I do, the
little fuckers actually said. “Yep, that sounds good.”
Wait, what? So now I’m back pedalling with my startled
emoji face on, barking at them, “You do realise that there’s a chance he may
not get his VISA in time and we will be flying over there without him?” Miss Marvellous shrugs a shoulder and adds,
“sure, we’d love you to come, Dad, but I don’t want to miss out on this trip.” She refrained from adding “…because of your stupid fuck-up.” At
this point, my bottom jaw was dangerously close to the table top when Boy
Wonder joins, “Yeah, hope you can come, Dad.” Can you believe what little shits
they are? Worse than that, Captain
Fantastic is sitting opposite me with a smug look on his face because he knows
our loin fruit better than I.
So he booked our flights on
various agreed dates and the deed was done.
As the months ticked by, Miss Marvellous ventured, “He will be coming,
right?” suddenly worried she’d jumped the gun and we’d be sending him postcards
from the other side of the world. I wanted
to shout at her “well it’s a little late for that!” but I kept myself in check
because frankly, I was starting to get a little worried myself. Boy Wonder was constantly assuring us that
The Captain will definitely be joining us.
Five months later, we finally got
the green light and we heard the loud self-congratulatory trumpeting of Boy
Wonder and he starts the “I told you so” spiel that I’m sure he’d been
practicing for months. By this stage, Captain
Fantastic is lucky to get himself on most of our flights except two, both the
flight to New York from Los Angeles and
from New York back to Los Angeles. The times differences were close enough for
it to be only a half to an hour difference so not a bad outcome.
We arrived at Melbourne airport
and straight away the Captain started causing trouble. His carry-on luggage doesn’t pass security (a
white powdered substance apparently…whaaaat?)
so we’re all on the other side of security waiting for him. He was standing akimbo getting patted down and
I was bored with his fuckery so I darted to the loo. Whilst I was gone, the bag failed a second
test. I returned to a grinning Miss
Marvellous and Boy Wonder, but no Captain.
I looked askance and both of the kids were snickering. Miss Marvellous blurted, “I think he’s
getting a cavity search.” I was startled,
“Whaaat?” She looked awfully hopeful,
then conceded, “Well I don’t know for sure but I hope so.” When he finally came back out of the
interrogation room, he was grinning and I was thinking either he’s up for a
little kinky, or a hot blonde with big boobs did the probe…or it was just a
chat. Either way, he didn’t look
violated so I relaxed a little and he confirmed it was the latter…a little
chat. Miss Marvellous was disappointed
and I was starting to get alarmed.
We caught our plane to Sydney, sunk
a few refreshments in an airport bar and then finally, our flight departed
Sydney for Honolulu at 7.30pm at night on 12th December. Woot, woot!
The Captain was seated a few rows behind us somewhere. The flight was non-eventful for the first few
hours as we caught up on multiple movies, enjoyed a tasty meal and a cheeky
vino or two. After midnight, I felt
weary and was fighting to keep my eyes open except for the indigestion. I wasn’t sure what had upset my stomach but I
dozed fitfully until the acid woke me.
Actually, the gastric reflux was getting so painful that I had to buzz a
steward for some antacid. By this stage
I felt like I had burned my entire oesophagus and when the steward arrived with
chewable antacid tablets, I almost cried in relief (I am a drama queen). No sooner did the soothing tablet make its
way down, it became clear that the acid wanted none of it and the whole lot was
making its way back up. My skin grew
clammy and my bottom jaw shuddered…fuck, I was going to puke.
I almost broke all of the nails
on my left hand as I hastily yanked my seat belt open, startling Boy Wonder on
my left. I dived out of my seat and tried
to run down the aisle unsteadily before I spewed all over everyone dozing
peacefully in their seats. An
unsuspecting dolt had chosen that moment to exit his seat and stretch his
legs. I careened into him as I tore down
the aisle and bounced off his legs as I rushed past him…unceremoniously dumping
him on his arse, back in his seat. No
apologies, or fucks for that matter, were given because if I opened my mouth, I
would deliver a wet pizza all over him.
I no longer cared about anything except getting into that small cubicle…I’d
started burping acid bubbles and vomit is imminent. Thank fuck the toilet was unoccupied.
I looked like a crazy, psycho bitch
as I yanked and pushed at the door back and forth to gain entry because in my
panic, I couldn’t work out if it opened inwards or outwards and the vomit was
making my stomach lurch. Jesus, fuck I
was almost crying in desperation when the door finally gave and I stumbled in,
slammed the fucker shut and slid the bolt home. I then yanked the lid of the
loo up and proceeded hurl violently. I was
throwing up convulsively, unable to stop my stomach from dramatically flinging me
around in the small room as it purged the contents of my stomach all over the
back of the toilet seat. Finally, after ten
theatrical minutes of hurling, I sagged over the toilet, totally exhausted by
the experience. My eyes were streaming,
I had vomit in my nostrils (I could smell it like parmesan that had been left
in the sun, in my olfactory) and my whole body was quaking from the violent
incident. I precariously stood and rinsed
my mouth in the small basin. I surveyed
the mess that was the toilet and realised I had to clean it because I am a
responsible adult. I wet paper towel and
cleaned the carnage with shaking hands.
I wished I was five years old and could curl up in someone’s lap whilst
they stroked my back and murmured soothing words in my ear. I felt totally spent as I gently eased the
bolt on the door and made my way back to my seat. I was lathered in sweat and looked for all
intents and purposes like I’d just run a marathon…it certainly felt like I had.
As I took my seat, it felt
particularly draughty around the back of my legs and after snaking a hand over
my butt, it became evident that a rent had torn in my cargo pants during the calisthenics
performed in that small room. I
reluctantly chewed another of the antacid pills in the hope that if there was
any more acid bubbling in the petri dish that was my guts, that it would halt. Boy Wonder looked at me and asked if I was okay…I
was so exhausted that I’d lost the will to live so I nodded at him and resisted
the urge to cry like a small child. I
put the ‘u’ shaped cushion behind my head and drifted restlessly to a shitful
sleep.
At some point whilst I was
dozing during the 8 hour flight, it became daylight outside of the shuttered
window and we’d entered US air space.
Considering we had left Australia at 7:30pm, it was rather disconcerting
to my equilibrium to discover that we had arrived in Hawaii at 8:30am the same
morning...like we’d climbed into a DeLorean and went back to the future. Actually, when we returned, we would be
leaving on 7th January and arriving home on the 9th. We didn’t even get to see the 8th
of January…the 8th didn’t exist for us. This statement would be thrown at me during
the rest of the trip because apparently, I told everyone who would listen those
exact words because I am unoriginal and careless who I bleat it in front of...namely,
my children.
So we shuffled off the plane and
straight away, The Captain’s indiscretions affect us all. We were, all four of us, ushered into a
room. It was winter there but Hawaii
doesn’t suffer the cold like most places; it is a tropical paradise and was a
lovely 24°C. We waited in our plastic bucket
seats with the fan whirring lazily overhead, eager to start our holiday. We were all a little weary because none of us
can really sleep on a plane. My thigh
kept sticking to the plastic seat where it was exposed through the rip in my
pants. The Captain was called into
another room and Miss Marvellous took great pleasure in gesticulating a
disposable latex glove being stretched over a hand. The Captain grinned at her and the three of
us giggled. He was in there for a while
and were speculating about all manner of invasive searching that was being
conducted beyond the doors but as he was released from the room, he was walking
normally and Miss Marvellous deflated in disappointment beside me. He had again eluded the cavity search. My daughter was becoming worrisome.
We returned to the baggage area
and there was nobody around. Everybody
had collected their luggage and were on their way, all except us. Four lonely cases stood in the centre of the
looping conveyor belt, alone and uncollected.
The cab ride to Waikiki was fascinating
and alarming all at once because everyone was driving on the wrong side of the
road. We arrived at the hotel complex
and had to sit around the reception area, which was outside because we were in
paradise, like browns cows because the room wouldn’t be ready until about
1pm. To kill the time, we took off in
groups, always leaving someone to watch over the luggage, to discover the
beach, which was just meters down the road.
Finally we were allowed into the unit and we dumped our stuff and started
our holiday.
Each day we wandered down to the
beach in the morning, returning late in the afternoon to shower before walking
down to dinner. Most evenings we had to
wait at least an hour for dinner because it was very busy in Hawaii with Australian
and Japanese tourists. The food was nice
and Miss Marvellous and I had discovered Ahi, fresh tuna, and ate it like we were
possessed. We started to sort our way
through the tax and tipping system.
Whatever the price on the menu, tax was added afterwards, and there is
no rhyme or reason to their system so we couldn’t guess how much would be added
to our bill. Then you had to add around
15-20% for the tip. It’s not cheap to
eat there but the food was fresh and delicious.
I mistakenly assumed that most of the food in the USA would be like that,
it’s not. They are all about quantity
over quality. This became evident when
we bought sandwiches for lunch one day and depending on the cold cut of meat in
your sandwich, this took up 90% of the sandwich contents with only a thin layer
of lettuce and a slice of orange cheese to inject a little colour. We had to pull some of the meat filling out
because really, Colon cancer called and we had to hit decline!
One particular day when we were loathe to wait for Boy Wonder to complete his ablutions, we left and advised we’d meet
him at the beach. When he finally
arrived he was a little quiet. After
some probing, we managed to extract from him that he’d seen more than he wanted
to see of a woman who was sitting on the ground, wearing shorts that didn’t
quite contain all of her bits. A wayward
labia with a liberal scattering of course pubic hair had made its way out of
the side of her shorts and was dangling like an old blood hound’s mouth. He was so horrified by the sighting of the
flange that he was rendered scarred into silence by the incident.
Miss Marvellous and I, on the
other hand, were enjoying the shenanigans of group of young college hard-bodied
men playing NFL in water in front of us.
We shared our admiration of the young men, although Miss Marvellous
advised that some of them were a little too cut for her liking…her type is tall
and skinny. I nearly lost an eyeball in
the mother of all eye rolls. I’m as old
as fuck so all of them were appealing to me for a little surreptitious perve. Not so
surreptitious it seems because we sat there with our heads together pointing
out winning features of the men in the water like a couple of desperate creeps
when a young guy sitting right beside us stood up from his towel and made his
way to the group. Miss Marvellous and I
shared a startled glance, because we realised he had heard our creepy conversation,
then we collapsed in fits of giggles.
Sprung!
ABC convenience stores hug most
street corners in Waikiki. Boy Wonder started
counting them, like he’d suddenly made an appearance on the Asperger’s spectrum. Everything was for sale in these stores. You could purchase alcohol, trinkets, souvenirs
and even clothing. Miss Marvellous gave way to her snow globe
addiction and started adding an unhealthy number to her collection right there
in Waikiki. Window shopping was a
pastime in the streets while we waited for a table in the restaurants. The Captain found a hat shop that sported exorbitant
price tags on its wares and enjoyed trying them on whilst the staff got excited
within. Of course he walked away because
frankly, $6,000 for a hat? Fuck off! I found a gorgeous black pearl necklace in a
jewellery store but talked myself out of the purchase because I am an
idiot. This was a self-disciplinary
action that I later regretted.
As a result of the scarring acid
vom episode on the plane trip over, I was now paranoid and taking acid
prevention measures daily in the form of a pill. This had an adverse effect on my guts and I found
I had a runny bum for much of the trip.
Considering most of our accommodation throughout the month long stay in
the USA was a single room with two beds and one shared bathroom, my bowel
movements became public to the family and a source of great merriment to my
offspring. I’d scream at them to turn
the television on and dance on the spot in the bathroom with my arse clamped shut
while I waited for the fucking thing to switch on only to have the noises from
my bowel eclipse whatever decibel the TV produced…followed moments later by
loud, raucous laughter from Miss Marvellous and Boy Wonder. Not the kind of music I want them listening
to.
All too quickly, the chilled
relaxing leg of our trip came to an end so we found ourselves again at an
airport. This was our first encounter of
the “no shoes allowed through security” rule and it was a little fascinating. Boy Wonder waltzed through with no problem. Miss Marvellous was pulled aside and the wand
was wavered over her ankles. Something
beeped as I went through and I was asked to stand akimbo whilst they waved
their wand over me. I am a moron and
inexperienced in all things security so before he started waving his wand, I
yanked up my top and pointed to my belly jewel, “Is this what is beeping?” He
jerked back in alarm when I abruptly lifted my top because he’s very nervous,
possibly because in the USA they allow any fuckwit who can stand upright the
right to own a gun, which quite often ends in tragedy. The security guard held his hands up in a
“calm the fuck down, ma’am,” kind of way and started chuckling because I think
he might have actually left a small skid-mark in his jocks and he was
embarrassed by how scared he just was of a harmless little Aussie. He shook his head at me because although I was
showing him my pierced navel, it was not the source of the alarm. He pointed at my arse and it turned out I had
a US 1c coin in my pocket. I have no
idea how the coin ended up in my pocket but his nervous laughter was making me
jittery and I wanted to get the hell out of security.
Surprisingly, The Captain and
his bag made it through with no problem at all.
Miss Marvellous sidled up to me and said, “did you see them going over
my feet…like I’m hiding something in my ankles.” I reminded her she has a whole
lot of shrapnel in the form of screws and rods in her feet since her double
bunionectomy last year. The penny dropped and she was no longer feeling
special…she’s just part cyborg now and I think I might start calling her nuts
and bolts for shits and giggles because I am an arsehole.
The flight out of Honolulu on
December 16th to Los Angeles was supposed to land at LAX at 10pm but
it was delayed for 6 fucking hours in Hawaii so I took the time to commence the
first edit on my completed novel. Boy
Wonder was sighing because he doesn’t do boredom well and there were a lot of hours
to kill. Miss Marvellous window shopped
in the airport to kill time so she didn’t kill a family member. Finally, we were allowed to board the flight
and I was delighted to find Captain Fantastic is in the same row, just on the
other side of the aisle. On this leg we
were flying American airlines and it was delayed by so many hours that we were
hungry before we even boarded the flight but we’re also stupid and
inexperienced because there was no food or drinks on the flight (if you don’t
count the tiny bottle of water and a small packet of pretzels that contained 8
of the salty, loopy, mini morsels that didn’t go far enough and had us licking
the inside of the bag) and we weren't prepared for starvation. . I wondered during the journey if Boy Wonder would
actually starve to death on the 5 hour flight.
When we finally landed in LAX,
we were still stuck on the plane because some arsehole pilot from another
airline had taken our parking bay because he’s a prick. So now we were all sitting on this plane as
it bumped along, taxiing around the airport like a scenic bus tour for another fucking
hour while we waited for that selfish prick to fuck off out of our parking
space. By this stage we were tired, sick
to death of waiting and we all had hanger (hunger anger) because we hadn’t
eaten in so many hours that we were snippy and shitty and spitting words at
each other like camels. The baggage
carousel took a light-year to start up and start producing cases and I wanted
to scream “feed me!” at random people or just punch someone for no reason
because I was intolerant and hangry and as the minutes ticked by, we were thrust
us into December 17th…
Doona
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