Hot Pink Pistol

Thursday, June 04, 2009

Hopey's Big Adventure

Pee Wee’s Big Adventure has always been one of my favorite movies and this past week I feel like my life has been a direct parallel to the movie. Only instead of finding a bike I am trying to find my way to Puerto Vallarta Mexico.

My boyfriend Noah and I had an awesome trip to Mexico planned for one of his best friend's weddings. We set off bright and early with our swimsuits underneath our clothes. My passport book had expired about 4 months ago so when I went to renew it I saw there a cheaper option that was a passport card. Me being the cheap ass I am I opted for the card. The passport card has now become Francis Buxton the bully that wants to buy Pee Wee’s bike.

So the big day arrives on Tuesday and we arrive at the airport at 6:45am to hop on the plane. We go to check our bags and the woman asks for our passports. Noah promptly whips out his passport book and I my card. She takes one look at my card, giggles a bit and then informs me I can’t FLY with the passport card. It was almost as if she laughed and said,

“There’s no basement in the Alamo silly”.

This is when it starts going to shit. I begged and pleaded, I even cried but it did no good. They also informed me the days of going to Houston and getting a same or next day passport were over. I then told Noah to get on the plane but he wouldn’t budge. Without hesitation he looked at me and said fuck it, we will drive.

We were on the road by 7:30am never once looking at Google maps or consulting with anyone that might have some insight of what we were getting ourselves into. It was as if Noah has a 1000 Chris Farley’s size jackets and he was gonna throw all of them over a giant puddle so I could walk over it. We were going to Mexico together hell or high water damn it!

I do love me some Noah but we don’t always see eye to eye on music. It was at about 5 hours into our road trip when he was singing the Old 97’s at the top of his lungs ( and I actually like his voice) I felt like Pee Wee when he was on the train with the homeless man singing old favorites and eventually had to jump from the train.
Luckily I found a Specials greatest hits and a Shins CD and suddenly his singing was much more tolerable.

After about 10 hours of driving we made it to the Mexican border. They promptly asked Noah to get out of the car and proceeded to ask him lots of questions in Spanish. I wasn’t exactly sure what they were saying but I contemplated saying out of the corner of my mouth, “I say you just let him go”. I have always heard to horror stories of Border towns so I was pretty sure my final moments of life were going to be me doing a goofy dance in platforms while humming Tequila through my tears.

Eventually we managed to pass through and instead of giving us a motorcycle to drive through a billboard they gave us a map to drive through lots of mountains. It’s starting to get dark and let’s just say there were no lights. I swear the road signs through these mountains were worse and curlier were worse than when Pee Wee has picked up the hitchhiker and is driving in the dark. If only we had some night vision goggles.

We assumed it was maybe another 4 or 5 hour drive before we got to out suite ass hotel room with a seaside view according to the map we received at the border.

So we drive and we drive and we drive and at every stop asking if anyone spoke English or had any idea of how much further Puerto Vallarta would be. We got to Chihuahua city when we found someone who spoke enough English to tell us it was not exactly a 4 or 5 or drive but another 20 fucking hours! In complete and utter defeat we found the nicest hotel we could and stayed the night. I awake to Noah snoring and almost believing it was all a bad dream. I tiptoe to the window and pull back the curtains only to find a huge brick wall six feet away, no seaside view. It was at this point I can’t keep it all together and just break the hell down. I am used to letting myself down but I hate more than anything letting others down. Noah works very hard and never gets time off and I know that if it weren’t for me he would be basking in the sun. He should have been putting a lime in a Corona that shaded him just right or something close to their advertisements. Instead he is driving me back to Austin.

Luckily we found Noah another flight to Puerto Vallarta at 7am from Dallas.

I wish at this point I could say I made it to Mexico/got my bike back but I can’t. I have always said the part I hate most about traveling is the getting there and getting back. This was a trip that consisted of getting there and getting back but no actual vacation.

We may not have made it to Mexico or on the silver screen but Noah and I are already planning another trip.

I do find some solace in that Noah actually made it there and is having fun. I just wish I was riding on his handlebars.


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