whew... what a night.
Go'en on a Honeymoon (1991)
Those pic's were taken in St.Thomas (very nice place!) We had a maybe
a five-month engagement. From the day Zebra said "yes" to the
day we both said, "I do" we managed to cover a lot of emotional ground and make
a lot of plans. Zebra, by a long shot, made most of the plans. We had a very
classical wedding; little church, full of guests, long white dress - and
Zebra wore one too :) Hehe no, seriously though, I wore a suit and my dudes
wore rentals. The honorable dates wore really nice dresses that we have
since verified were all worn again!!! (guys, apparently this is a big deal).
The thing of it is that Zebra planned the wedding... and anybody that's been
through one of those knows that there are loads of little niggling details.
Early on in the process it became apparent to me that Z was going to micro
manage the wedding deal - she gets a 'perfectionist' streak from her dad and
this is a mixed blessing. Although I still had not really got a grip on how
complicated things were going to get I realized that I needed to have as few
opinions as possible. I remember these three monster fricking books of
"invitation" samples coming home... she was asking for my opinion! I picked,
like the third sample and said go for that. Three days later we
("we" ahahhhahahaha) had narrowed it down to about 10 invitation, rsvp,
seat markers, programs, etc. paper system sets... somehow I got out of
the final round of qualifications. Don't even talk to me about the flowers
for the church...
Now, somewhere in the middle we had a conversation about the honeymoon.
We had listened to both of our parents talk about their honeymoons and we
had discussed some dream trips.... and in the end Zebra said clear as a bell
"Ok, corto, the honeymoon is your responsibility. Surprise me... just take
care of it." but then she added..."just don't make it a cruise." So we went
on a cruise.
I talked to travel agents, read all the literature I could find and in the
end concluded that our biggest bang for the buck would be a carnival cruise.
I booked the whole thing and locked us in before telling Z. She was rather
hesitant at first but when the brochures got into play she warmed up to the
idea just fine. We went on a western (?) Caribbean eight-day cruise on the
Ecstasy (Carnival monster huge ship - biggest in her class at the time). Best
part: we won some random lottery and ended up getting a free room upgrade from
an outside lower mini cabin to a huge suite - wet bar, whirlpool bath, queen
size bath, living room and a private balcony over the ocean…
The plan was to leave on the morning after the wedding. The reception was in
a downtown hotel and we had a very good party for a reception so things went
on rather late. We went to our hotel room and cracked another bottle of
Champaign and couldn't finish it.. I closed the thick thick light tight hotel
room curtains, checked that our luggage was ready to go, climbed into bed and
turned out the light.
bzzzzzzzzzzz bzzzzzzzzzz bzzzzzzzzzz Huh, you know, those
curtins do a dam fine job of making sure that no matter how accustomed to the
darkness you get, you are not going be able to see anything without a light
source. Not even a pair of solid white spike shoes in the middle of the floor.
So, when I jumped out of bed to the sound of the alarm clock I stepped on them
and screamed my new bride into wakefulness. Stumbling, I find my way to the
window and through back the curtain. Find a light... click. OK, so our flight
leaves at 6:am from ottawa to montreal and from montreal to Miami leaves
montreal at 9:am. And the ship leaves Miami at 4:30. So we set out alarm clock
for 4:am and what time is it now? 5:15
: (Unimportant note: Zebra's hair managed to still look exactly like it did
when she left the salon before the wedding)
Ahhhhhh! we both made it out of the hotel and into a cab, en route to the
airport on deserted roads within 7 minutes of waking up. Just our luck that
the cab driver was totally not interested in the money I was flashing at him
to speed the fuck up... what a moron. We got to the airport at 5:50. We
ran to the desk (this is Ottawa - not a huge airport) to be politely
informed by the lady that "I'm sorry, we sold your seats to stand by
passengers. No, there is nothing we can do for you." (bitch) Zebra looked
like she was gonna break right then and there. I grabbed a pay phone and
called my dad.
At the first ring, my parents tell me, they both came fully awake and
completely anticipated what was wrong. "Oh, we should have arranged to
drive you to the airport... what were we thinking..." yadda yadda yadda!
Well my dad drove hell bent for leather to the airport, collected us and
then motored to Montreal to get us there in time for our connecter. This
is a 120 mile drive. We were there in under 90 minutes. Just call my dad
mario. Now this was in 1991 and car phones were not popular yet. My dads
car however had this 'mobile phone' - you picked it up and the mobile
operator answered and you had to give her all these phone codes to establish
a caller id and place a call. As we got closer to the Montreal airport we
were in touch with out airline (air canada) telling them that we were going
to be cutting it close but that we would be on time none-the-less. "Do not
sell our seats..." We get there, pull up to the infamous white zone (zappa
anyone?) and hear from the ticket girl that they have sold our seats and
there is nothing she can do for us. Well, I was in the dark about this
part, I was getting the luggage out of the car and my dad was with Zebra
at the ticket counter... this time Z did break. She was cry'en up a storm
- this was a very stressful experience - and my dad was about to explode.
He was asking to "speak with your supervisor" to everybody until he was
finally sitting with two crew chiefs and reviewing options... seems the
"there's nothing we can do" was a tad premature. We had to fly United
from Montreal to Tampa then catch a flight back from tampa* to Miami.
This is a flight that normally has tail winds and Tampa is a seriously
The flight attendants knew the score and came to inform us that … well,
we're actually getting head winds and there's been a sort of rain storm
in Tampa… we're not sure that you'll make your connection…" Keeping in
mind that it is a real problem to not be there when the ship leaves port…
We get to Tampa and we are asked to move up to the door… while everyone
else remains strapped in place. The very second that the plane stops,
the door pops and there is this dude with a clip board… "Are you mr and
mrs so-and-so?" We nod. We're off and running… dude is babbling about
stuff over his shoulder to us. The airport is this giant hub and spoke
deal … we're on the outer edge of a spoke. It seems that, against faa
(fac?) policy the captain of our plane spoke to the captain of the next
plane and told him to sit still for 10 more minutes… please. We had an
empty spoke train waiting for us. The doors of that opened to a little
cart that dude drove and we were off making rental car commercials
through the terminal. Another personal spoke tram and it's doors open
on a little stair well up to the waiting plane. Then it was just "did
our luggage make it?"
Ok, this is officially taking too long. We made it by the skin of our
teeth. And with luggage no less…
* Tampa : is this an unfortunate name or what… Can you type it without