(All italicized words should be read in the voice of Morgan Freeman).
Little did Gregory know that this weekend would not go as Mr. Rowe had planned it. Instead it would be a comedic diorama for the amusement of a gathering of supernatural beings. The trip started almost as it normally would. Mr. Rowe’s car did not have functioning air conditioning so the ever powerful priceline.com was used to rectify potential discomfort.
“You get a free upgrade to a Chevy Captiva!” said the clerk at Avis.
“What is it?” asked Mr. Rowe.
“It’s a mini SUV!”
Surely had the clerk known Gregory she would not have expressed such enthusiasm over renting him a heavy, gigantic “piece” of American machinery.
“Uhh…I’m worried about the gas mileage on it.” Greg stated with clear trepidation.
“It’s based on a car chassis so I’m sure it’s good.”
“Oh, well OK then. Does it have EZ Pass?”
“Yes, of course.”
Gregory found the behemoth and rode the beast home to pick up his lady.
Gregory and his lady placed their modest luggage in the belly of the beast. To Gregory it looked like two pencils in the center of a large hallway.
With clear frustration Mr. Rowe quizzed his Lady “How in the world can there exist a car made within the last couple of years that doesn’t have ANY power sources in the front?”
“There must be something. Oh here is one jack in the back seat.” Amber had saved the day.
“At least we have EZ pass! Wait…why didn’t that thing register?! Shit. They’re going to charge us an arm and a leg for blowing through the toll! That toll bill isn’t going to compare to the fuel bill. That clerk is a true ‘murican ’cause 22 miles per gallon is not efficient. What car frame was this built on? The JLTV?”
“Oh look, the EZ Pass swings out. That’s why it didn’t work.”
Gregory knew his lady was an honest to goodness genius but still wished she had discovered this secret of the universe prior to his blowing through a toll station. For the rest of the drive all went according to plan. Gregory’s lady slept and played “bubbles” while he drove and disappeared into his own thoughts. A fast and successful arrival causes Gregory to believe that the worst of his troubles were over and this weekend would be the successful and relaxing trip the two of them so badly needed. Even the weather was perfect.
Mr Rowe placed his first order for the night after glowing over an expensive sports car. “I’d like an espresso martini please!” It was not the last time Mr. Rowe would say that this evening.
“Your house red please.”
“Babe, let’s walk around a bit before we get dinner at that cool place I found.” said Mr. Rowe’s lady.
And so they wandered the streets of the financial district of Boston taking in the sights of real estate that they can barely dream of affording. They enjoyed dinner at a simple place with a very modern ambiance much to both of their liking. But it was 7 PM when dinner was complete and that was just too early for the likes of these two love birds to return to their rented suite of comfort and luxury.
“I’d like an espresso martini please!”
“A glass of this elegant Italian red please.”
In true shock and awe Mr. Rowe exclaimed to the nearest bar tender “this wine is more than two hundred forty dollars for TWO OUNCES! Does anyone ever order it? Do they do it just to impress their guests?”
And so began how Gregory and Amber became friendly with the bartenders. This carried on for a while and included a free shot of rum that the bar keep was raving about. Gregory really placed very little thought upon the ramifications this would have upon his race the following morning.
The love birds did indeed have a wonderful evening and retired for the night. Their alarm was set at an unbearably early time to ensure that they could traverse the transit system in time to have a comfortable warm up prior their race of ten kilometers. But this morning was when the man behind the curtains decided to really entertain the voyeuristic supernaturals.
“Oh. My. God! My sports bra is at home!”
Panic set in for all involved. It was very early on a Sunday morning. No stores would be open nor was there a significant amount of time to make it to such a store before the race. The ever wise Gregory had the idea of borrowing supportive underwear from a stranger. Amber in a clear state of panic did not fully consider the absurdness of Gregory’s horrifically flawed idea and decided to give it at try. That attempt was completely fruitless. Instead Amber chose to fortify a wonderfully sexy bit of lingerie with metallic pins. It was not ideal but there were no other options since the people of Boston do to readily loan out their underthings.
“Greg, he’s not even leaving for another ten minutes and the shuttle stops at the airport before the train station. It’s almost 7 right now. We won’t have enough time.”
“Fine, I’ll go get the keys. Nothing else can go wrong today.”
Gregory was wrong, very wrong.
“We have 1 minute until the train leaves! RUN!!!!!!!”
The love birds made it onto the earlier train with time to spare. It was, in an unfortunate way, a bit of race warm-up. Attempts to relax were thwarted by a jerky ride. The train operator seemed to have a penchant for brake checking the train that was miles behind him. Just at the point when the train was deep below a river it came to a jerky halt.
“Ladies and gentlemen the train is disabled.” came crackling through the P.A. system.
Four more times would the operator announce the obvious statement that the train was disabled. Gregory’s mind raced. He’d never missed a race before. Amber was sinking into depression over wasted money. Just when all hope was lost the operator announced that the train was still disabled and would be taken out of service. They would attempt to drop passengers at the next station.
With the assistance of Bostonians the agitated love birds race-walked their way to the start of the race. Along the way they encountered a most awkward sight.
“&T^&FICITF” the woman screamed at the man while spittle flew from her mouth.
“Oh sweet Jesus. Please don’t let those two men fight over that woman. I don’t want to be obligated to help anyone right now. I just want to get to the race.”
Gregory did not care for others. In his selfishness he cared only about getting to a foot race to check off a new PR. Thinking he had escaped moral obligations Gregory turned around.
“Amber…that woman was just standing in the middle of the street and raised her shirt completely over her head for one of those guys.”
“What the hell was she on?” Amber asked.
In the end the love birds made it to the race. Their mental states were far from ideal. Indeed the rest of the trip and the race went without serious incident. Gregory earned a new 10km PR but it was more difficult than he expected. The unfamiliar watch showed paces that got slower as the mile markers approached. He dug deep to have a negative split and was able to check off breaking forty minutes in the 10 kilometer distance. Indeed he earned a time of thirty-nine minutes and fifty-one seconds! His Lady also earned a shiny new personal record finishing in the forty-five minute range! The celebrated their delight with free veggie burgers. One last thing: the love birds giggled when they found just miles from home the jammed secret compartment full of power sources. The End.
In the next episode of “The Misadventures of Mr. Rowe” watch as the transmission on his beloved car, his family’s only car, falls to pieces during the time in which his bike is in the shop leaving his family of five with one borrowed bicycle.