9.13.2011

{Travel} Oh, Canada! Part II


After finishing up our time in Niagara Falls, we walked through the gift shop for a few keepsakes, then loaded back up into the rental car and headed for Toronto. We didn't have much of an agenda for the capital city, other than to take a look around, find a local pub or two and enjoy a show at Second City Comedy that night. (There are only three of them, located in Chicago, Toronto and Hollywood—we'd been to the one in Chicago and loved it. This one didn't disappoint, either.)


This is about the time our second "mishap," we'll call it, occurred. Someone got left behind. We had pulled into Toronto and made it smack dab into the middle of downtown. But the husband started getting awfully antsy behind the wheel until I finally inquired as to whether he actually did indeed have ants in his pants or if he simply impatient to reach our destination. Turns out it was a little of both—he'd been holding it for a restroom since well before we'd reach the outer city limits. And he informed me he was about to burst in that there driver's seat if he didn't get a bathroom break real soon.


Apparently real soon meant right that second. He viciously looked around and eyed a restaurant to our right—we were sitting amongst four lanes of track, two lanes in each direction, with streets of bars, restaurants and shops lining both sides. I told him it was a bad idea, don't do it, just wait! "It'll be like a Chinese fire drill," he says. "Oh yeah, we're doing this."

He hopped out of the driver's seat and scurried over to the makeshift rest stop, nearly disappearing before I'd had time to react. So I scurried on over to the driver's seat and barely had a few seconds to adjust the steering wheel and reach the pedals before..... the entire street opened up and the cars hauled through. I had no choice but to go. Anxiously I scanned the right side of the street, hoping that my husband would pop out of the doorway and scramble over to the car before I had to seriously commit to the gas pedal. But there was no sign of him and away I went. (Note: we couldn't use our cell phones because we were out of the country and don't have international service. So there was no simple call to solve this wee dilemma!)

Naturally, I figured he'd come out and see that the cars had gone and would wait for me to return. I wish I'd had a camera for his face when he sauntered out of the restaurant, confident in his ability to handle an impromptu bathroom break, then realize there was not a vehicle in the street. (Really, it was completely empty!) He later tells me, after much peace making and apologizing, that his first words were simply, "Oh, shit." I'm sure a grave expression followed his remark.

Briefly, I'll clue you in that Toronto's downtown streets are no easy task to manuever. You have your typical one-way roads like any downtown destination, but some of the streets were "no way," meaning you couldn't turn left or right. There were streets that veered off diagonally from each other, making it nearly impossible for me to determine which route made sense for a simple U-turn. I figured I'd make a box and come back around, find the husband patiently standing at the side of the road where I'd left him and slow down long enough for him to climb aboard.


About 10 minutes and one very difficult turnaround, I slowly drove back down the scene of the crime, looking for him on the sidewalk. Not only did I not see him, but a festival of people abruptly flooded out into the sidewalks—thus making it impossible to locate anyone specifically. I made one more U-turn and drove back around, then another, driving up and down both sides of the streets, anxiously scanning for his white A&M hat bobbling around in the crowds of people. I had my windows rolled down so I could shout for the husband when I saw him, but then a homeless man came up and tried to stick his head in the window and accuse me of stealing the car I was driving, so I rolled them back up. (Sheesh!)


Between all this U-turning, I did manage to find our hotel. So I added that into my route, swinging by the restaurant then driving back to the hotel and careening my neck out the window to get a peek into the lobby in case he should be sitting in there. (Remember, our cell phones didn't work so we had no way of contacting each other.) About this time, I started getting mad. Why had he gotten out of the car? Didn't he know that was a dumb idea? And why wasn't he waiting for me at the same place he got out at? This is getting ridiculous!

I yanked the steering wheel over and angrily pulled into our hotel. "I'm done searching," I thought. "Hopefully he can find this place on his own." While I look out my car window into the lobby one more time, the concierge fellow popped up and slowly inquires, "Are you the one that was lost? Your husband came looking for you and said he'd be back so to stay here. He just left a few minutes ago to look for you some more."

It took me a second, and then I realize my husband must have already been here and told them what happened. And told them I was the one that was lost. The nerve! I promptly set the poor man straight and railed into him about how could I be the one that was lost when I wasn't the one that got out of the car? And how could my husband be looking for me when I was the one driving? And why hadn't he just waited here for me instead of marching off again?

Concierge man didn't have an awful lot of answers, so I jerked my suitcases out of the trunk before he could offer to assist then said, "I'm sure you'll see me later tonight, I'll be drunk and in a much better mood."

While waiting in the lobby for my lost husband to arrive, I decided to go ahead and check us in. Apparently the husband has already done that too (how long was he here for?!), and at that point they brought the manager out who told me the same thing: my husband had told them I was lost, he'd come by a few times and had gone out to look for me again and to wait here as he should return soon.

That's great, so now everyone thinks I'm an idiot that can't find my way out of a paper bag and my husband is back out on the street somewhere. I need a drink. I dragged our suitcases across the tiled floor in the direction of the bar. About this time, the husband quickly walks in the facing door of the lobby and lights up as soon as he sees me. By the time he's standing in front of me, the sheepish look on his face is almost unbearably cute and he can barely apologize fast enough for the whole mess. I smile and am glad he's okay. But upon arriving to the room, we have a talk about how he'll never get out of the car again and for the record, I was not lost!!

We hit the pub in time for (lots of) happy hour.

The final leg of our Canadian adventure, part III, is next!


4 comments:

  1. Too funny. Great story to remember in later years.

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  2. I love it!! I can just SEE it all like a movie playing!

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  3. OMG It was as if I were there. That is exactly how I would of responded too... right down to the smile and cute face quickly smoothing my ruffles long enough to get to the room anyway LOL Thanks for sharing your humaness with us as well as the trip. Hugs! Luann.. there is no visual verification so this might not post after all. oops there it is

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  4. That was too funny. I laughed out loud when I read this. I'll have to tell about David and a California trip we took and where he got left behind.

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