"Unfortunately, vehicles are assigned on a first come, first served basis. How soon do you think you can get your ID updated?"
Has this guy ever been to the DMV? "Let me see what I can do. I'll be right back!"
I gather up my useless identification and payment detritus and with as much pride as I can muster, turn and beat feet out of there. From the parking lot, I call Drew to update him on my lack of progress. My heart beating wildly in my chest, I try to think of a nonchalant way to convey the news without letting on what a royal screw up I am, especially this early in our new (again) relationship.
Unfortunately, he answered on the first ring and I'm forced to stumble through my explanation without having much time to prepare a logical excuse.
"Hello, this is Drew." (As if I didn't know whose number I dialed. Oh, it's so much easier to criticize others when my glaring faults are so apparent at this exact moment. But I digress...)
"Hey. It's Elyse. I'm at the car rental place and there's a slight issue with my ID. I was hoping you could help me troubleshoot this one."
"Ok... what's the issue?"
"It's expired."
I could hear him breathing on the other end of the line, but the magic answer to our (my) issue was not instantly forthcoming as I'd hoped. "Ooookaaay... What do you need me to do?"
"Well, I don't think I can make it to the DMV and back intime for us to leave anywhere close to on time. We still need to get the dog to the kennel and he's an hour away right now."
"Text me the address of the rental car place and I'll be right there."
God, I love this man.
Forty minutes later, Drew pulled up. He unfolded himself from his car and strode over to where I was frantically pacing the sidewalk.
He greeted me with a swift kiss, his smooth face momentarily soothing my frazzled nerves. "Let's get this show on the road!" he exclaims, leading me by the hand to the front door and holding it open for me. Not a word of judgment about my ID. No complaints about having to drop everything and run to my rescue (again). No eye roll, sigh, or any sign of disappointment. Have I mentioned how much I love this man?
Within twenty minutes, the vehicle is rented and we are rolling out of the parking lot, headed in opposite directions. Me, to pick up his slobbering mutt, and him to finish his workday so we can leave on time.
I would love to tell you that this little hiccup in our carefully laid plans was an anomaly, but that would be a bold-faced lie. At this point, the shit show was just beginning.
Stage two of our plan: Deliver slobbery mutt to the kennel was going great up until the point where I actually picked him up. I pulled into Drew's driveway exactly sixty minutes after I left the rental car facility. Stretching out my legs for a moment, I could hear Webster barking like an absolute lunatic (as per usual) and running back and forth across the wood floors. As soon as I had the front door open, he flew through it, barking and snorting. Apparently he was just as excited about the trip as we were. I'm pretty sure Drew was equally excited for Webster's stay at the kennel... if I'm being honest.
While he rolled around in his own urine in the backyard, I gathered his leash and food and before long, we headed back tothe highway. The kennel was forty minutes away and closing at five p.m. Totally manageable as long as everything from that point forward went exactly to plan.
Spoiler alert: It didn't. Not even close.
Once on the highway, I was making pretty good time. I turned up the radio to cover the racket Webster was making in the back seat. Between the stress panting, barking at nothing, and excessive drooling, I couldn't get to the kennel fast enough, but I turned up the radio and floated into the fast lane on a cloud of daydreams about the trip ahead. I hadn't been to New Orleans in almost two decades. From what I could remember of it, we were in for a pretty fun time — lots of food, lots of alcohol, lots of people watching, and most importantly, lots of time together, which these days was at a premium. I mentally counted the beads around the neck of future me. I could taste the beignets. I could feel the pulse of music coming from the nightclubs lining Bourbon Street. I could see Drew there next to me, taking it all in for the first time. I was ready.
"Recalculating route."
I'd missed my exit.
At this point, I didn't panic. I quickly checked the nav on my phone and started making my way over to the far right lane so I could take the next exit. That was a tricky interchange, I reminded myself. It could have happened to anyone.
Just in case, I dialed the number of the kennel to let them know I was running a teensy bit behind schedule. They did not pick up, so I left a voicemail explaining my delay.
"Hi! My name is Elyse Hall and I'm on my way with Webster. I know you guys close at five, but I am coming from Tampa and just missed my exit. I was hoping I could reach you to see if you could stay open for a few extra minutes just in case I don't make it there on time. Could you please call me back so I know you got this message?"
I hung up and returned my full attention to the road ahead,and following the prompts from the nav on my phone, took the next exit that would allow me to turn around and course correct. Headed now in the opposite direction with no time to spare, I paid closer attention to the signs above me and unfortunately not enough attention to the lane I was currently in and sailed right by the exit for the second time.
Now in a full-fledged panic, I was forced to call Drew to yet again put my ineptitude on full display.
"Good afternoon, this is Drew."
"I missed the exit AGAIN!"
"What do you mean AGAIN?"
