Why am I doing this again?

I've been talking a little here and there about our upcoming vacation plans to Costa Rica, and trust me, I'm more than a little bit excited. It's going to be nice to get out of town for a while and be away from work. I'm pretty sure this will be my first two-week vacation since I became a working stiff (not counting the month I took off after Luc was born). 

But my enthusiasm is tempered some due to the fact that I'm doing something on this trip I swore I never wanted to do again: Traveling with my father-in-law. The man is guano-effin crazy. 

This is going to be a test of my patience that will be long and difficult, as I have experienced it once before. Back a few years ago, my sister-in-law got married in Vegas, and we traveled up with him and my other sister-in-law and her three kids. They met us in Ontario and we caravaned up to Sin City. And since we had more room, he traveled with us. We're barely on the freeway, and his shoes are off. He's taking advantage of our backseat and stretching out (without a seatbelt, I believe). He's grabbing his snacks out of the bag in the back (dried, candied pineapples). All that before we got through Devore. The seatbelt thing gets me the most, cause that's my ticket -- not his. To this day, whenever he gets in our car, I make a point of reminding him to get his seatbelt on and won't leave the confines of his apartment complex until it's on. 

So, we make it to Barstow, and stop at the McDonald's travel station so the rest of us can stretch our legs and use the bathroom. I lead a couple of the kids to the bathroom and relieve myself as well, then head back to find the rest of the family so we can hit the road again. Nooooooo. We can't. He's decided to start the party already and goes to the liquor store and buys some beers and some flavored vodka (or some such) and wants to sit down so everyone can drink. So, he pours for everyone (he's gotten used to me not drinking, thankfully, and I got a soda or water). Gina, who's supposed to pick up the driving, looks at me with her eyes saying "What do I do?" She has a small drink, and before he refills it, she tells him, "Dad, I'm going to be driving from here. I shouldn't have any more." Oh, that sent him into a tizzy, taking away her drink. But my sister-in-law, with no other licensed drivers (or him) in the car, it was OK for her to have at least one more. 

So, we finally get on the road again. The whole trip he's been bugging us to stop and take a picture of the Zzyzx sign. But we can't figure out a safe place to do so on the way there, so we venture on through to Baker, and made a quick stop, and I picked up the driving again. We make it through, finally, to Vegas, about 8:30 (we left in the 2-3:30 range, so a long trip for us) and no one's eaten. We're all hungry. So, we head to the hotel we found for the kids, Terribles, to get them checked in, and then we head to their restaurant to eat. After waiting 30 minutes for a table (cause the buffet had closed not 10 minutes or so before we got there), we grab my father-in-law and leave to get him to hotel. 

Now, we had a freebie thanks to that big Ralphs Club free trip fiasco, and were staying at a Residence Inn. Great room with a bed, kitchen and couch that turned into a bed. We could have had Gina's dad stay with us, but we opted for our privacy (and we hadn't seen our room until after we dropped him off, then went to the wrong Residence Inn, in the rain and wind). 

His hotel, meanwhile ... could barely be described as a hotel. It's a place called the Downtowner Motel. You want a visual? If you've seen the movie "The Cooler," imagine the place William H. Macy's character lives ... only worse. Shady might be the nicest way to describe it. But it was cheap, and fit into his price range. We left him Gina's cell phone (so we could be in touch easily) and headed to our room. 

The next day, we went and got him, and headed to the Sahara for the buffet lunch with the kids (it's one of our favorites for the price range). He didn't want to eat, saying something about his diet. So, we went on, and left him to the casino. We got done, and he realized he had forgotten a shirt, and we needed to go to Wal-Mart to get him one. This was my sister-in-law's first trip to Vegas, so we needed to lead her around town to and from places. So we would be going from our hotel (near the convention center) to Terribles, back downtown, and back. 

After struggling to find a Wal-Mart, we finally headed back to his hotel so he could get ready. Along the way, he was complaining about being hungry, and could we stop and get something. Sigh. We ran through a Carl's Jr., got him some food and were on our way. We gave him an artificially early time to be ready, and went on our way to get dressed. The early time worked. He was ready, and we made it back across town (in the 6 p.m. range) to Excalibur on time so he could walk his daughter down the aisle. 

After the wedding, it was time to celebrate. He and some of the other relatives (including my just married sister-in-law's Godmother from Costa Rica) sat around a bar and drank their dinner. And while the adults were doing that, I hung out with the kids (since their mother joined them as well). There's only so many laps you can make around some of those shops. We had planned to take them to M&M World that night, but it didn't happen. 

The next morning, we all were getting up early to make the drive to Victorville for a reception at one of my brother-in-law's relative's house. We made the trip over to his hotel and called. No answer. I went and knocked on the door. No answer. Call again. Nothing. Knock. Nothing. I finally went to the front desk and asked them to open up so we could check on him in case something happened to him. Nothing. Furious, we started pacing and grousing. When who should finally decide to saunter along. "Oh, were you waiting for me? I just went to get some coffee." GRRRRRR. 

OK, we figure we still have some time to get some food before we leave town, but can't figure out where, and end up at Denny's. Yay, Denny's. Where he doesn't eat again. And the kids really want to go check out M&M World. So we run through the MGM Grand, get over there, take the quick tour. Stop, see the lions, and drag him back to the car. Seriously. The man was dragging his feet so much it was beyond belief. 

We start hauling ass, trying to get to the reception that my sister-in-law planned herself. Even though he was asleep, we made the effort to slow enough to get a picture of the damned sign and finally got into Victorville about 8 p.m. After the party had pretty much broken up. 

My sister-in-law is upset and heartbroken. I'm hungry, tired and upset (as is Gina). We all get a little to eat, but he's ready to leave within 20 minutes of arriving (did I mention he's a racist, too? My brother-in-law's family is of Mexican descent, and that's the worst to him). My other sister-in-law, seeing that we're about to pop a blood vessel, offers to take him the rest of the way home, and we graciously accept her offer. Before they leave, I sit down with my oldest nephew (a very smart, responsible kid) and I give him the directions. "No matter what you do when you come to that split, you stay on the 15," I tell him. "Don't listen to your grandfather. You stay on the 15 going south until you get here and then ..." 

Sure enough, I called my nephew (and Godson) and he said, yep, Grandpa wanted us to go the other way. He wanted them to take the 215 and go through San Bernardino. Now, sure, it would have connected them to the 91, but why go all that way around? 

Oh, and all those time he wouldn't eat? We found out later, when he complained to someone about the trip, that he didn't eat because no one offered to pay for him to eat at those places. Never said word one about not having any money to eat, and we probably would have been able to have paid for something for him. But he certainly had money to gamble. 

That was one weekend. This trip is going to be nine days. Luckily, we'll be surrounded by his family down there, and I think most of the relatives in our age group are going to be able to find ways for us to get away from him for some of that time. Because they've all had their experiences with their uncle. 

So, that's my past experience with my father-in-law. For more recent stories, as we prepare for this trip, you can check out Gina's new blog (it's also linked in the blogroll on the right "Flirting With Integrity") which is focusing on her experiences getting ready for this trip (and her life). 

Well, hope to be back Friday morning (but maybe without the food topic).