So the trip....Sometimes Momma Jurl gets something in her head that we all have to do because it's something she just knows is going to be wonderful. Sometimes she's right and sometimes she's wrong. This adventure was a little closer to the wrong side.
Momma Jurl is obsessed with Passion plays and there is an almost famous one, The Promise, in Glen Rose, Texas (about an hour Southish of Dallas) that she loves most of all. On her numerous excursions to The Promise she spotted a Bed & Breakfast called Inn On the River that she decided she had to stay at or die trying.
So off we went to Glen Rose Saturday afternoon with Momma Jurl driving, Yenta Ann playing DJ, and me and Dirty Bitch arguing in the back seat (Dirty Bitch kept trying to put on her headphones and leave me with the Yentas). The ride down wasn't the worst we've ever had, we only had to make a couple of u-turns, but the dumb Halloween jokes Momma Jurl printed out for Yenta Ann to read us were a bit torturous (Example: What do Ghosts like to eat? Wait for it....wait for it....Halloweenies! Kill me.)
We made it to the Inn in one piece, but it quickly turned ugly when we discovered there were no televisions in our rooms or the lobby. The horror! This was particularly bad because the biggest UT football game of the year was on Saturday night and Dirty Bitch was going to lose her shite if she didn't get to see it.
At first we tried to block this trauma and just go with the flow because we had 6:30 massages (in a conference room) while Momma Jurl and Yenta Ann headed out to The Promise (meaning we had no car).
The massages were pretty good even if we were side by side in a conference room. When I snuck a peek at Dirty Bitch I saw that her massage therapist had covered her mouth with the blanket and her eyes with something that looked like a jock strap. It was so distracting to me I missed the rest of my massage....
The conference room had a television (Hallelujah!) so we'd planned to watch the game in there as soon as we hopped off the tables, but alas, another couple was scheduled for massages. Bastards.
We trotted back to the main building with our heads bent low to match our spirits. What is there to do in Glen Rose, Texas at 7:30 p.m. within walking distance of our Inn? Nothing. There probably isn't anything to do even if you have a car.
We roamed the lobby for a few minutes looking at the candles, jewelery and tea they had for sale (because what's a Bed and Breakfast without junk for sale) then mosied out to the front porch where we rocked the rocking chairs and watched the occasional car drive by.
About fifteen minutes was all I could stand. I jumped (got up slowly)out of my rocking chair, stormed (casually walked into the lobby)and said to the Inn keeper, "Good God woman! There must be a television we can use around here! I demand the use of the other conference room and some free bread to make up for the last fifteen minutes of front porch rocking I've had to endure during prime time!" Or I might have said, "Can we please use the other television in the other conference room, please?" Whatever, I handled up on our problem and a few minutes later we were watching the game.
Here I skip over the pain of watching UT lose and the pain of listening to Dirty Bitch scream the P word at Colt McCoy.
The next day we all had a lovely breakfast, but not before Yenta Ann mistook the lady pouring her coffee for Dirty Bitch because, apparently, all Hispanics look alike to Yenta Ann.
Then we proceeded to gang up on Momma Jurl for not eating her fruit and I'm pretty sure our discussion about gas drove the people next to us away from their table long before they were ready. After breakfast we went to sit out by the river (stagnant puddle of water) and enjoy the beautiful weather. And it was enjoyable until Yenta Ann came down with the guest book from their room and proceeded to read each and every entry to us. We concluded a lot of panty pudding had been spread around in their bed. Yuck. That's why you never ever read the guest book, that and because it's boring.
The trip home involved several u-turns with Dirty Bitch and I screaming at Momma Jurl because she needs to be notified of a turn at least a hundred yards ahead of time. I was slightly car sick by the time we finally headed in a straight line and Yenta Ann's DJing was getting to me. Yenta Ann had been playing gospel music since we started on this trip and it was starting to add to my pain. Not that I don't like gospel music, I love it, but not for hours, not when I'm car sick, and not when Dirty Bitch is listening to her headphones. Sick of my complaining, Yenta Ann yanked out the cd and turned on the radio to an oldies station, refusing to share anymore cds with us because we wouldn't like them!
Pretty much everything I predicted would happen on the trip happened with just a couple of exceptions. Momma Jurl didn't call us mean until after we'd gotten home and I just missed seeing Yenta Ann naked by a heartbeat. Thank you, Jesus!
Still, even when one of our trips is bad it's good because we're with each other and I get a wealth of new material. Happy Trails.