No Pool. No Go.

So, Caroline and I won’t be going to San Antonio next weekend. When I told my friend and her husband this news last night, the husband, Eric, said ‘why, because the hotel you booked doesn’t have a pool?’

Eric is a funny guy.

Actually, we’re not going to Texas because we were supposed to meet Craig in San Antonio, but now he won’t be there.  Or at least there isn’t any guarantee that he will be there. 

 I knew this would happen.

I knew it when Craig first suggested the trip.  I knew it when I spent $1200 on plane tickets and hotel reservations. I just plain knew it. And I honestly don’t mean that in a snotty, ‘I-told-you-so’ kind of way. I mean it as matter-of-factly as possible.   Craig’s return from his two previous deployments were also postponed once or twice.  It was foolish to even assume he’d be home as first projected.  I know better than to expect Uncle Sam to stick to the schedule.  Uncle Sam just doesn’t work that way. 

The good news is I get my money back from the hotel reservation and we can use most of our airline money as a credit towards a trip to California we have planned for this summer.  It could be worse.  But still, it’s a big bummer.

I was really looking forward to going to San Antonio. I’ve never been to San Antonio.  I wanted to see the Alamo and the Riverwalk.  And Craig, too.

I get a lot of flack for being a pessimist, but in this particular case, perhaps I should have held firm to my innate pessimism and waited a little longer to make the reservations.  In our relationship, Craig is forever the ‘just do it and we’ll deal with the consequences later’ kind of person and I’m the ‘but, what-if, what-if, what-if?’  kind of person.  Some times my ‘what-ifs” are unneccessary.  But other times, they’re entirely acceptable.

There’s not much I can do about this now.  I still have to call Expedia back to cancel our reservations; I was on hold for over 20 minutes yesterday and they still wanted me to wait for an agent who would be able to help me.  After 20 minutes of Mariachi on-hold music, I couldn’t stomach the thought of having to listen to another second of it, so I said I’d call them back later.  It’s technically ‘later’ but I still haven’t called back.  Who knew I had such an aversion to Mariachi music?

On the bright side, we’ll be able to swim Memorial Day weekend, when the pool officially opens.  If we were in Texas, that wouldn’t have happened.  Because, you know, I booked the only hotel in Texas without a pool.


2 responses

  1. Aw, I’m sorry to hear that you won’t be going to San Antone. It’s a great place. Stephen and I went there for a mini-vacay before he left for Basic and we loved seeing the old Spanish missions and hanging out on the Riverwalk.

    You are right that the Army has a mind of its own. I hope they don’t eff with my husband’s return date. I guess it doesn’t directly impact me since he gets sent back to Germany (where I’m not). It would just make me mad.*

    • From my experience, they probably will. Because, you know, that’s the way the Army-verse operates. They’re always like ‘Oh hey, we need that paper signed NOW’ so you sign it and then it proceeds to sit on someone’s desk for weeks. Or like when we PCS’d from Hawaii to Arizona and the orders incorrectly authorized me to travel to Wisconsin (so close to Arizona, right?) and we didn’t receive plane tickets until the day we were to fly back to the mainland.

      God Bless Uncle Sam.


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