Friday, April 8, 2011

Our Worst Vacation Ever

Rocky and I had a friend that moved to the suburbs of St. Louis, MO. Somehow, we got it into our brilliant little minds that we should move there (this was before we had kids). Housing is cheaper, wages were higher, and it's the birthplace of both my paternal grandparents.  Now, I don't know if you could exactly call this a vacation, but we got on an airplane and left the state for a weekend, so it qualifies, right?

We arrived in MO on a Thursday afternoon. The plan was that we would stay with our friend Dan. He was newly divorced from his wife, on disability leave from work, and had full time custody of his 3 y/o son Hunter. Okay, let me gritty that last statement up a bit. He left his wife because she returned to cocaine. He was on disability leave from work because he got drunk one night and fell through his big screen TV, resulting in a gnarly scar from his temple to his lower lip. And the only reason he had custody of Hunter was because no one else was available.

Dan picks us up from the airport and we drive 30 minutes to his house in Hillsboro, MO, a sleepy little suburb, with a small town charm. It was daylight when we pulled up to his house, and we were shocked to see that he lived right across the street from a cemetery! It was like something straight out of the movies. It had a rod-iron gate with cobblestone pillars, and a little walk-thru gate that faced Dan's house. We could see all of the statues and headstones. Pretty during the day, but Dan was a bachelor with no curtains or blinds on his windows. Our guest room window directly faced that creepy ass cemetery at night. Plus, when Dan had fallen through his big screen TV, he had bled all over the floor. Even though he had it cleaned, it was still heavily stained, and he had missed cleaning a couple of bloody finger print marks on the walls throughout the house. Rocky, who doesn't get scared by anything, was completely freaked out.

We were determined to enjoy our trip though, and have Dan show us MO. Friday morning, Dan, Rocky, Myself, and 3 y/o Hunter headed out for a day of sightseeing. Dan drove us all over Jefferson County, showing us the little towns and suburbs, and of course - a heart attack in a hamburger - White Castle Hamburgers. We were so young and stupid though. The entire time Dan drove us around town, he had an open container of alcohol in his lap. Every time the car stopped, Dan refilled. Now, why in the world would Rocky and I not speak up? For goodness sakes, Dan had his own 3 y/o in the car too. Here's some of the sights we saw that day.

Fake Palm Trees were everywhere. This was at 
a housing development called Plantation Lake. All of the houses
are on private lakes with imported sand, and pretend beaches.
Dan's mom owned a trailer that we could rent out for $300/mo.
Could you imagine?

Rocky feeling redneck, next to a "crick."

So that night, Rocky and I walked to the grocery store and bought stuff to make dinner. Hunter was my little buddy and wanted to be wherever I went. I think he really missed his Mom, so I made sure to play with him a lot. Dan swore that all his son ate were prepackaged chocolate brownies. We made chili that night and Hunter ate 3 bowls! It made me really sad, like the kid was being neglected. Later on, Dan got REALLY drunk (no surprise), and almost fell through the TV again! Really dude? He kept hitting on me and it was driving Rocky insane. He kept telling me things like, "you'd make a great mom. We'd have great babies together. Just leave Rocky, and come be our mommy. Rocky is so lucky." Rocky and I decided to go to bed. 
Later that night, Dan started sleep walking. He was walking around the house looking for Hunter (who had previously fallen asleep in Dan's bed, and was still there). "Hunter? Hunter? Where are you buddy?" Rocky and I were so freaked out, we quickly locked the door. He jiggled our handle. "Hunter, are you in there?" Rocky told me to be quiet, and said Dan would eventually go back to bed. That's great Rocky, because there was no way in hell that I could go back to bed with a drunk lunatic walking around the house and a cemetery right next door, and no friggin' curtains on the windows! Ugh! Dan did eventually go to bed, but I never fell back asleep!

Saturday we went to the Budweiser Factory. At the time, I was an avid Budweiser drinker, so it was SO COOL!
Being a redneck again!

Showing off our goods! Can you believe I was 40 lbs heavier here. Yuck!

This is a shell station across the street from the Bud Factory in downtown StL.
It also happens to be a Police Substation!
See the Icehouse sign next to the police sign.
Love it!

Later that day, Rocky asked Dan to take him to the Local Sheet Metal Worker's Union. Dan, also a sheet metal worker took us, but told Rocky not to mention Dan's name because he was not on good terms with the union and on temporary suspension. Thanks Dan! The evening passed fairly easy because Dan, exhausted from drinking all day, went to bed really early. Rocky and I were so eager to come home!

Needless to say, we don't live in St. Louis, MO! The last time Rocky talked to Dan was in 2005 when Dan called to say he had violated his parole and was returning to jail for an extended stay. Nice!

Have you had a horrible vacation? Would you ever go back?

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