This morning I was up at 6 so that Jane and I could get to the local high school by 7.30. Buses pulled out at 8 and we arrived in Blythe midday and then Phoenix, Arizona mid afternoon. Blythe was predicably disgusting with men sitting on milk crates rolling joints and drinking from brown paper bags while we decided which fast food restaurant we’d poison ourselves at.
We arrived at the hotel in the hottest part of the day, 119 degrees to be exact. We had four busloads of volleyball girls disembarking and not a bellman in sight. The hotel rooms are filthy and sitting her on the bed I feel like I’m on a clean island and I’m afraid to step on the floor barefoot since I’ve moved chairs and found potato chips and dirty tissues under them. I’ve scrubbed and dusted and thrown out no smoking signs, clearly they are meaningless as the room smells like a cigarette.
I’ve been to WalMart and I cannot believe the prices or the sadness that permeates that store. It’s the size of of a city and filled to the brim with things that we shouldn’t want and definitely don’t need.
I’m driving a Chevy 15 passenger van and although it’s a 2012 model it has over 20,000 miles on it. I hope that the air conditioning holds out on us and I really hope that I’m able to not crash into people.
The girls are a delight. They are sweet and enthusiastic, they are polite and lovable. Granted, this is day one.
Mr. G has called to find out where the dog leash is, when we’re coming home, if Alexander’s friend Steve wants to sleep over and he wants to know if the housekeeper is coming. I’m not a great communicator with him. These things probably should have been in a note, but we have text messages and I like hearing his voice when he calls.
Should I survive this trip there will be wonderful tales to tell.