One of the reasons why I've always preferred to travel with the only sane family member around (that would be the woman who gave me life) or winging it solo is because I've been able to sidestep the minefield of bullshit that comes with planning a trip with a friend. That is, until now.

Thought it would be cool to blow off some steam in the next few weeks with a quickie weekend getaway, but making the mini-excursion into a "girls nite out" theme. Well, more like a girl + 1 since my circle of single and fancy-free girlfriends have been shrinking faster than Mary-Kate Olsen. Damn near everyone I know is either getting or have already gotten hitched, on the inside track for the idealized amount of 2.5 kids while migrated into the blandness of suburbia. So, the cheese stands almost alone. Enter my homegirl Nadine.* We've been friends for eons, and when she moved across the street from me about 5 years ago, it seemed like we had made a 360° from sleepovers to just chillin' on the stoop with a couple of cigs talking about whatever.

So around September when I had the bright idea to make a weekend run out of the tri-state area, she was on the short list of candidates I could proposition 3 days of debauchery to. And as luck would have it, Nadine was up for the trip. But then again, who in their right mind would turn down some sunny skies and an excuse to drink in the daytime during the dog days of winter? The whole plan still hinged on whether or not she could get the time off as schedule was constantly schizophrenic due to the revolving nature of being a hospital staffer. I figured as long as she gave me answer before Thanksgiving, I'd be good to book the flight and then plot the hotel scouting.

September ended, nothing.
Halloween came and went, nada.
Thanksgiving rolled by, still no concrete answer.

What kind of janky ass position are you holding down if you can't get a yes or no from your supervisor damn near three months ahead of time just to take two days off? Meanwhile in the midst of all my thumb twiddling, American Airlines kept tempting me with new discounted flights smack dab for the time I was eying. A round trip of under $150 was just too much of a steal to pass up. So I put the booking on hold so I could run the numbers by her first. I call her cell and home numbers so many times I may have given myself carpal tunnel. No response. I'm pacing and getting antsy because I'm slated to lose the pending seats at midnight if I don't put the order through. Finally at 11:09 p.m., this broad calls me back feigning apologies. Never mind the bollocks, are you in or out? She says she's still going. So, I reserve the tickets at least feeling a bit more at ease since the biggest hurdle was cleared. Well, for the time being.

Now I was comparison shopping for the best place to stay, and of course I was the one doing all the work. Every time I would call her to stop over to take a look at the details and sit down to crunch the numbers, the heifer would pull some incognito bill-collector avoidance tactics.

This constant push & pull only served as a reminder of why I keep the socializing with broads to a bare minimum because this is the kind of nonsense that's far too commonplace.

Here's hoping a U.S. marshal doesn't put a slug in me if I happen to choke the living daylights out of her en route.

Labels: friendship, frustration, rants, relationships, vacation