Coffee Chronicles …and Keys? We Don’t No Stinkin’ Keys!

What up my peeps?

The HB and I are out and at it again. Of course, we’re hanging out with the usual cast of characters. You know that wherever we go, Cmdr McCroc and Mrs. Scrubbles are usually close. The Right Rev Dr and the First Lady made the trip and two of the HB’s brothers and one sister made the trip too. I heard a rumor that Mrs Mayor and the Doctor are making the trip and where Mrs Mayor is, she’s sure to bring her security blanket, the stuffed giraffe she consults on all her political decisions, Stephanie. There’s also the possibility of a Professor and Yoko Uno sighting, but we shall see.

—

Our day started with the grounds crew cutting the lawn and grass clippings everywhere. The significance? Well, let me tell you. Your Hero has some major grass allergies and ever since we got here, I have been suffering. You should see my eyes. Well you could if they weren’t swollen shut. And I can’t breathe. My nose is so stuffed that I may require an oxygen tent to be installed in the RV. We were supposed to take the bikes out for a spin around the resort, but I was hiding inside from the mowers and blowers.

I did venture outside when The Right Rev broke one of his awnings and the water heater vent. “Who ya gonna call?!” Why, Your Hero, of course. Fixed.

The Vikes were coming to Inglewood and that means McCroc has gotta be there. Your Hero made the pilgrimage with McCroc. McCroc has been a Viking fan since forever. How that happened, I do not know. McCroc grew up in CLE and as such you would think that he would be a Browns guy. Nope. He probably picked purple because Butchie is a Browns fan. Why does McCroc have to be so contrary?

Yeah, so McCroc told me to be ready to roll at noon. Yes. 12 o’clock, because we had to drive from Palm Desert to SoFi. How many of you got your calculators out? McCroc and I put in some mileage yesterday. On the way out, we made it about 45 miles or so west, somewhere into MoVal when the phone rang.

It was the HB. “Did you lock the RV?”

“Yes ma’am, I sure did,” I proclaimed proudly with a beaming smile.

“I don’t have the keys to get in,” the HB said flatly.

I was confused. She always locked the RV when she walked out of it. Even when she was just next door watching Mrs. Scrubbles clean something. Me? I hardly ever locked it up. Unless we were leaving for some reason. I was usually afraid that she was gonna tell me that I was in trouble for driving away without locking it, but here I was getting in trouble for locking the door. Ya just can’t win.

Dangit.

Thank goodness for CoachNet. The locksmith arrived relatively quickly and according to reports had the door unlocked within about 10 seconds. Eeek. Personally, I find that a little unnerving. I hope he only uses his powers for good.

The Cmdr and I continued with our three-hour trek onward to the City of Champions. I wondered if there would be someone on the offramp upon our return at 11:30 with a bouquet of flowers or maybe some oranges that I could lay at the feet of the RV Goddess as an offering of peace.

Arrived at SoFi. Watched the game. Vikings lost.

You can probably imagine it was a quiet 126-mile trip back to the resort. I scrolled through the Croc website looking for new arrivals to show McCroc in the hope I could cheer him up. But to no avail.

When we got back, Rico was waiting for us outside his motorhome. Smiling. He just loves it when someone other than him is in trouble. “Oooooo-whee! Someone is gonna get it!” He followed me all the way back to the RV hoping that he could watch the fireworks.

Luckily, the eleven hours we were gone gave the HB a little time to cool off and I only had to deal with a little bit of a side eye.

“Whew!”

Drink ‘em if you got ‘em!

#coffeehousechronicles