Arrival In San Antonio
Jul. 8th, 2016 12:24 am
Or, Curling into a Ball
I flew to San Antonio--the purported first stop in B's teaching tour--without her.
That day had been cancelled the week before for low attendance. Cross Country was only gonna make $600 there (unless they had some walk-ins) and besides? Those folks could still catch her at the next stop 90 minutes away. B asked the company What does that mean for my travel plans? without consulting with her road manager first. Never, ever EVER ask open-ended questions is my motto. Offer a solution, which happens to be your advocated position. It woulda been cheaper for them to keep her previously booked flight but NEWP. Since she'd given them 'work' to do? They cut off their nose to spite their face, spending $550 to fly her to Austin the next day instead.
Well, we little people can't do that so easily. So I kept my previously scheduled flight to San Antonio, booked a cheap room and a car for a day.
I touched down in San Antonio, picked up my car and--surprise--was 'upgraded' to a compact SUV since no intermediates were ready. Not that the CUV was, either. The hood was left unlocked (as it was out of washer fluid--I'd discover that later). It was a black Nissan Rogue with a touchscreen and modern-looking accoutrements. OOOOH, went my inner nerd. Time for some integration! Out came my S7, up came Google Play, I downloaded the Nissan app, linked the Bluetooth to my car and readied myself for...fine. For turn-by-turn Google Map directions over the speakers. Which would turn down/pause Spotify whenever it needed. Too much to ask? I didn't think so. Sure, it's not the Android Auto I play with every day (*ahem* Korean owners are spoiled, we get the best stuff) but I can at still get audio-over-Bluetooth on the Missus' car. It's a 2013 model with a base radio. No fancy bells and whistles, no voice-command services, NOTHING. Except Bluetooth.
Guess that was more than a Nissan could handle.
The first two miles driving were utter horror. Didn't know where to go. Didn't know where I was. My phone--for some still unknown reason--was EMAILING audio of my turn-by-turn directions to my Google e-mail address. Had to find somewhere to PARK and stop and untangle alla my electronic nonsense. Mostly. Just wanted Google Maps to speak to me. The useless Nissan app still read texts to me, but why...? The interface was all Honda-style and useless. The only available text responses were 'call me' or 'can't talk' or 'I'm driving' and so on. Probably still quicker and safer than what I typically do.
Any given warm day on a highway
Me: I'M STOPPING AT THE STORE DO YOU WANT ANYTHING?!?!??! TEXT TO WIFE.
Sonata: Sorry, I don't know how to help with 'I'm stopping at...'
Me: *punches 'talk' button on steering wheel* Man, fuck you.
Sonata: *begins reading the dictionary definition of the work 'fuck'*
Me: SERIOUSLY. DAMMIT FUCKIN DAMN! Piece a shit.
*Finally closes sunroof and windows...so the car has a chance to hear my words*
None of which has anything to do with my rental car.
But seriously--you think that's bad?
Wait 'till I try to voice request music with the car wide open.
Anyway, got to my room a bit shaken up and extremely dork-ragey.

Not bad for the price. It was tastefully decorated, I guess. The colors were something my ex woulda picked out ten years ago. The lighting was a bit harsh.

Speaking of lighting...? I didn't do that. But this is why I photograph my rooms on arrival.

There's lil' pamphlets in the front entry for local attractions. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Unless you count the gun club that'll let you rent a machine gun. You know.
Cuz your hunting-a-whole-herd-of-buffalo-at-once skills need brushing up.
Or maybe your teeny, shriveled penis quit working.

Have you seen this man's free hot breakfast? No, have you? I didn't. After dishing up a plate, I took it to my room, popped it in the microwave, left for a nearby gym and ran a few miles. Showered, dressed, returned and guess what? The maid cleaned my room and tossed it in the trash. Made me wanna yank the spread off the bed and scuff my bare ass up and down the sheets. But I didn't. Cuz I'm a nice guy. On the outside.
If I ever lose my impulse control in my old age? You'll know. Everyone will. There'll be headlines an shit.