Vacation Recap, Part One: Saturday (8/13) dawned horribly hot as the AC was still inoperable. Repair persons arrived at our door at 7:38 AM for what they claimed would be an hour, hour and 1/2 to finish up. Alan dealt with them while I went to Publix to buy snacks for the trip, an interim litterbox and kitty litter, plus miscellaneous provisions. The guys kept working as an hour stretched into three, then more. I was worried because we were staying at my friend Michelle's beach house and, while she'd given good directions, we'd never been there (or anywhere near) before so I didn't want to try to navigate after dark - leaving by a certain time was important, and not just because I was melting in the heat. Finally, I got (to my chagrin) kind of pissy with them and said, "Is this going to take much longer? Because if it is, I'm sorry but you'll have to come back later - we're on a schedule." It was apparently going to take MUCH longer (as was later proved) so we were forced to call no joy. They left and moments later, wringing wet with sweat and totally gross, we piled into the car for a 5.5 hour trip.

The boys (1 cat, 1 dog if you're not familiar with my family) were so good during the trip that they scared me. I kept unbuckling and turning around to see if anyone had expired in his crate, because quiet, well-behaved boys are simply not my boys. But all was well and eventually we arrived at Hidden Dunes, the Miramar Beach enclave in which my friend's villa is located. There are guards and a security gate beyond which one MAY NOT PASS unless you are among the privileged; fortunately for me, my friend's brother, staying there the week before, had left the key for me at this gate so we needed to stop. Here is where the fun begins.

Our car halts at the security gate to this excluexclusive community ("excluexclusive" as used here being an adjective meaning "populated by ultra-rich toffs who would wake from a sound sleep screaming in utter terror at the knowledge that someone within my tax bracket had swindled her way in amongst them") and the doddering old gatekeeping geezer, who looks about 257, staggers out to assess our credentials.

Me: Hi, I'm Helly! I need to pick up an envelope you should have for me with the keys to the Colemans' Beach Villa #49."
GateGeez: Er...what one?
Me: Number 49.
GateGeez: That's not a rental unit.
Me: I know it's not. It belongs to my friends and they left the key here at the gate in an envelope with my name on it - Helly - for me to pick up today.
GateGeez: No. I don't have that. What villa is it again?
Me: Beach Villa #49.
GateGeez: You can't check in. That's not a rental unit.
Me: I know it's not a rental. It belongs to my friends, they are letting me stay here and they left the key here for me to pick up.
GateGeez: Do you know their names?
Me: [no, of course not, my friends make a point of never introducing themselves to me] Yes, the Colemans. Michelle and Bill Coleman. Villa #49.
GateGeez: No. I don't have it. Well, I guess...lemme check.

--he lumbers back in and is gone for a long time. He returns with a fax from my friends saying it's okay to let a real estate guy in to do an appraisal.--

GateGeez: That's the only fax I got from them.
Me: You don't have an envelope?!?
GateGeez: Naw.

I try Michelle, who has her office phone going direct to voice mail and who doesn't answer her cell phone. At this point I panic, because I'm thinking, "We are 6 hours from home. Where am I gonna find a place to stay on a Saturday night at the last minute in a resort town, that will allow pets, that isn't a thousand a night and what the hell are we gonna do?!?" A few frantic calls later, I eventually reach Michelle, who speaks sternly with GateGeez. After a couple of minutes on the phone with her, GateGeez lumbers out with an envelope containing keys, a parking pass, a map and a note for me. *expletives deleted*

Okay, to be fair, I TOTALLY understand his confusion. I mean, I told him I'm Helly, I'm here to pick up an envelope with the keys to the Colemans' villa, #49, right? And this is what the envelope had written on it. This is an actual envelope which I did not manufacture as a prop, "BV" meaning "Beach Villa" - you can understand his problem, eh? I should have been more explicit.

But finally we arrive in a lovely, large, luxurious villa with comfy chairs and a jacuzzi and a porch and a lake and we order the best pizza I've ever tasted outside Chicago and vacation begins, so I sort of start to forgive GateGeez, but not really because how hard IS IT to read stuff people hand to you only 4 hours earlier?!? It ain't like thousands of people named "Helly" come through his gate every day, you know?!?

But Michelle's place was beyond fab and my feelings were soothed. There are pix on Flickr if you're curious and more to come, including Alan in a swimsuit and Alan in the Gulf. The ones of me in the jacuzzi, though - those are already posted! W00t!