I Hate Hurricanes

Like most of you, I’m sitting at work right now, not working. While this is how most of my workday is spent anyway, today there is a reason. I’m monitoring hurricane Rita like a human Doppler radar. Unintentionally, I’ve become an expert on hurricanes… Why you ask? A second vacation destination of mine is about to be leveled by a hurricane.

The first was New Orleans. My wife and I, along with fourteen other friends and family planned to spend a few days in the Big Easy prior to embarking on a weeklong Caribbean cruise. Bourbon Street! I was looking at this part of the trip with such anticipation. I even trained myself to say the words “N’awlins” and “jambalaya” so that I could blend in with the locals. I preemptively dubbed the weekend “Nipple Fest ’05”, as my plan was to treat the entire city to my areolas pretty much 24/7. There was going to be more gratuitous nudity than a backbend competition at my in-laws.

Of course, we all know what happened to New Orleans. After the city “pulled an Atlantis”, Carnival changed the cruise itinerary to depart from Galveston. Ok, fine. So we (and by “we”, I mean my wife) rebooked everything. Instead of Bourbon Street, we’d do Six Flags before the cruise. Fast forward to today… Hurricane “dia-Rita” has gathered strength in the Gulf of Mexico, and is threatening to derail everything. At first I was optimistic about this, figuring at least the lines at Six Flags would be shortened. Now it looks like everything could be cancelled…

As it stands now, the trip to Houston and the entire Caribbean cruise hang in the balance. Theoretically, I was supposed to fly into Houston tomorrow. I’d then spend 48 hours hunkered down in a hotel room, waiting out the hurricane, possibly without electricity, room service or cable television. This would have been the start of my vacation. Compared to my usual day at work, I was actually looking forward to this.

Don’t cry for me. I understand your concern. Most of you don’t know anyone affected by the hurricanes. But I don’t need a fundraiser or any volunteers. I already politely declined the assistance of the Red Cross. Just keep me in your prayers. I’d like to think this whole ordeal has given me new insight. They say the Lord works in mysterious ways. Apparently, ruining my vacation plans is a high priority for Him.

So now what? There is a real possibility my “vacation” next week will likely be spent at work. Memo to my coworkers: If you thought I was disgruntled before…

3 thoughts on “I Hate Hurricanes”

  1. Quick update…

    With the Houston airport closed, and a category 5 hurricane coming we opted to cancel everything. This hurt. Going on this cruise had evolved into a test of wills between man and nature instead of just a vacation. I guess I can always just wrestle a grizzly bear or surf into the ultimate wave towards a certain death like at the end of “Point Break.”

    Anyway, I’m spending next week in Vegas instead of at work, thus averting any bloodshed at my office. I think everyone wins here. Now, if I can reverse my hurricane misfortune into a nice run at the Pai Gow table, all will be right with the world…

    Finally… Krusty, locate your cell phone. I left you a message. It’s looking like you lost your phone under some couch cushions or empty pizza boxes again. Let’s meet at the Spanish 21 table at the Sahara. I’m sure you’ve got a job interview or an engagement with your wife’s friends this weekend that you can blow off at the last minute to meet up with me in Vegas…


  2. You know I had thought all along that there was some guy in New Orleans that God hated. He tried to get him, but he escaped to Houston. So he tried again. But maybe it’s YOU that God hates, MR. I don’t know what you did, but I’m sure it involves Krusty and/or the Zillionaire’s Lounge and/or another form of drunken debauchery. Or maybe he’s just mad at you for playing too much XBox… If a tornado hits Vegas, instead of where the New Orlean/Houstonian for a couple weeks fled to, my suspicions will be confirmed.

  3. Technically the phone was both lost and dead. This was a result of drinking two bottles of wine in an afternoon while playing crouquet. I finally got back to MR after finding my phone in the bushes. Interestingly enough I only found my phone because I was trying to catch a frisbee and tripped on a crouquet ball and fell on the phone. After many swear words and a couple of brews I called MR up. Sorry I missed Vegas.

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