a tale of adventure, madcap hijinks, and the search for a
relaxing weekend in a baltimore suburb vacationing with friends.
a play in one act
(mostly because by the time i got done typing out Act I i was too disheartened to continue with Acts II and III).
sabrina, a girl
american airlines, the weenies
the nice lady from national’s traveler’s aid desk, a woman
metro, the first public transport
the nice lady from amtrak, a woman
marc, the second public transport
some commuter bus place, hell if i know, the third public transport
the cash admissions guy at laurel park racetrack, a man
the pre-paid admissions woman at laurel park racetrack, a woman
the programs guy at laurel park racetrack, a man
the dispatcher from Taxi-Taxi, a woman
the taxi driver from Taxi-Taxi, a man
john the firefighter,
super shuttle, the incompentent and overpriced morons
and a supporting cast of thousands.
[walks to el. boards el. successfully arrives at chicago o’hare international airport, where she learns that her 0625 to dulles international aiport has been cancelled. checks voice mail, where american airlines has left her a voice mail informing her of same, and that they have put her on a 1030 flight instead.]
sabrina
[manages through some heretofore unheard-of strength of will to avoid desperate suicide by bashing her head into the wall in order to avoid spending hour after unnecessary hour at ORD.]
was it not enough that i left the house at 4AM? now my flight is cancelled! oh woe! woe! woe! now put me on another damn flight!
american airlines
how’s 6:30 sound? into ronald reagan washington national long-ass name airport instead? that work?
sabrina
dude, you totally could’ve just done that the first time you rescheduled me. i am so on board with this plan.
american airlines
rock on.
[boards plane at 06whatever.]
american airlines
[lands at 0907 ET]
hooray! this is the best thing ever! i landed before my original flight was going to land despite taking off later, and i am geographically much closer to my destination than i would have otherwise been! hooray! oh, dang, all my transit plans are now in upheaval. i shall inquire at the Traveler’s Aid desk.
sabrina
hello, nice lady from the national traveler’s aid desk. i see on this little free map you have helpfully provided that my destination, laurel, maryland, has a little “MARC” icon on it, and “MARC” is indicated, by said map’s legend, to be your local commuter rail service. can i get to there from here?
nice lady from the national traveler’s aid desk
sure thing. hop on the yellow line, transfer to the red line at gallery, get off at union station, hop on a marc train. enjoy!
sabrina
i love this plan. nothing can go wrong today! …
sabrina
[09:50 ET. get on yellow line. transfer to red line at gallery, after watching some sort of amusing interlude wherein two teenage idiots are denying that they know each other after getting busted by a metro security guard for something, which suits me just fine because they shoved onto the train in front of me and several other be-suitcased individuals and i am not a forgiving soul.
10:20 ET. arrive at union station.]
sabrina
hello, nice lady from amtrak! i see on this map here that i can take a marc train to laurel, maryland. true?
nice lady from amtrak
true. one way or round trip? oh, really, you take the train to odenton and transfer to a bus, the bus takes you to laurel.
sabrina
sweet. one way, please!
sabrina
[11:15 ET. boards train.]
MARC train
[takes me to odenton. MARC double-decker commuter trains are, by the way, indistinguishable from Metra trains except for their livery: they seem to have little maryland flags on them. how twee. anyways.]
crack-addled commuter bus co, inc.
[waits at train station.]
sabrina and ten thousand elderly men
sabrina
[who is dim but not stupid]
is this the bus to laurel?
crack-addled commuter bus co, inc
laurel race track.
sabrina
you said “laurel” and that’s good enough for me!
[piles aboard with suitcase and carry-on, with the ten thousand elderly men who are all, sabrina now sees, discussing horse racing.]
crack-addled commuter bus co, inc
[drives to laurel park race track. kicks everyone off bus.]
sabrina
say, do you know where i can get a cab around here?
crack-addled commuter bus co, inc
hell if i know. have a nice day and get off my bus!
sabrina
[12:00 ET. stares at her surroundings.]
i would appear to be at a horse racing track out in the middle of nowhere. this was not at all what i had had in mind. oh well, i’ll go ask someone for the number to call a cab.
ten thousand elderly gentlemen
[go very, very slowly, through the admissions queues.]
sabrina
[seeing no other alternative, like say an information desk, gets in the admissions line. upon arriving at the head of the line, asks if they know the number of a cab company.]
the cash admissions guy from laurel park racetrack
hell if i know, go ask the pre-paid admissions woman.
sabrina
hey, do you know how i can call a cab?
the pre-paid admissions woman from laurel park racetrack
what the hell are you doing in my line asking me for a cab?
sabrina
…dude, i just need a cab. chill out.
the pre-paid admissions woman from laurel park racetrack
fine, jesus. go inside and ask the programs guy. and get out of my line!
sabrina
[hauls suitcase and carry-on up the ramp to the programs desk.]
do you happen to know how i can get a cab?
the programs guy at laurel park racetrack
go ask the pre-paid admissions woman, she’ll call you a cab.
sabrina
[finally beginning to get a bad feeling about all this]
um, she sent me to you. she said you’d have the phone book?
the programs guy at laurel park racetrack
fine, jesus. give me a minute.
[grudgingly searches for and eventually hands over a coffee-stained, messy card for a very creatively-named cab company called “Taxi-Taxi.”]
sabrina
thank you, kind sir! it has been a pleasure!
[12:10 ET. walks outside, calls cab company.]
dispatcher from Taxi-Taxi
Taxi-Taxi, whaddya want?
sabrina
hi, i need a cab from the laurel park racetrack to the holiday inn in laurel.
dispatcher from Taxi-Taxi
ten minutes. [hangs up]
sabrina
well, this isn’t so bad! it’s such a beautiful day outside. so blue-skied and temperate. things could be worse than waiting here on such a nice day for my taxicab to the hotel. i guess i should just hang back and relax!
sabrina’s phone
[12:20 ET.]
“twenty, twenty, twenty-four hours to go-o-oh, i wanna be sedated!
nothin’ to do, nowhere to go-o-oh, i wanna be sedated!”
driver from Taxi-Taxi
hi, i’m here, where are you?
sabrina
here? where? i don’t see a cab.
driver from Taxi-Taxi
at the main entrance?
sabrina
hmm. i’m at the “grandstand entrance,” i don’t know if that’s different. do you see a yellow penske truck?
driver from Taxi-Taxi
hmm, no. are you at the restaurant?
sabrina
hmm, no, i don’t see a restaurant. do you see the outer wall of the racetrack with the horses on it? [repeat Q&A session with other fine local checkpoints including the railroad tracks, the green awning, the red awning, the ambulance, the bus parking lot, the cab driver’s white cab, sabrina’s lime-green winter coat, and a horsie.]
driver from Taxi-Taxi
hmm, no. let me ask someone here and see if they know where you are.
driver from Taxi-Taxi
well, this is apparently the public entrance. are there any signs around you?
sabrina
just a sign that says “thank you for coming to the laurel park racetrack.”
driver from Taxi-Taxi
laurel park racetrack? are you serious?
sabrina
um. yes? laurel park racetrack? in laurel?
driver from Taxi-Taxi
dude. the dispatcher said you were at the racetrack restaurant in fort washington. i’m like 45 miles away.
sabrina
i hate my life. so much. you have no idea.
driver from Taxi-Taxi
yeah, that sucks. good luck with the taxicab thing. ciao!
sabrina
[12:30 ET. returns to the hostile admissions desk, defeated.]
do you happen to know the street address here? i tried asking for a cab to the laurel park racetrack and that really didn’t work out so well for me.
the pre-paid admissions woman from laurel park racetrack
what? street address? are you kidding? just say “laurel park racetrack.”jesus. go away.
the cash admissions guy from laurel park racetrack
what happened?
sabrina
they sent the cab to fort washington.
the cash admissions guy from laurel park racetrack AND the pre-paid admissions woman from laurel park racetrack
[groan.]
the cash admissions guy from laurel park racetrack
well, where are you trying to go?
sabrina
the holiday inn in laurel.
the cash admissions guy from laurel park racetrack
oh! well, jeez. that’s just like a mile up the road. go walk down that road there, turn right, then turn right again, then when you get to 198, turn left, it’s right there. can’t be more than a mile.
sabrina
[eyes wheely suitcase. shrugs.]
what the hell. i’m not waiting another half hour for another cab to show up someplace and call me from, like, alexandria.
[sets out on hike.]
[time passes.]
[more time passes.]
sabrina
less than a mile MY ASS YOU IDIOT.
john the firefighter
[pulls up in a silver isuzu rodeo.]
um, are you lost? do you need a ride? what the hell are you doing walking alone with a suitcase along this backwoods, winding, hilly country road?
sabrina
OH YOU HAVE NO IDEA.
um, do you know where the holiday inn is?
john the firefighter
no idea, but i’ve got a map. hop in.
sabrina
[mentally weighs relative merits of continuing along this never-ending country road, lugging my wheely bag — thankfully only barely packed, since its real purpose was to bring things home with me — and being kidnapped by a crazy man in a silver isuzu rodeo. kidnapping wins.]
excellent.
john the firefighter AND sabrina
[drive up and down rt. 198, see no holiday inn, and no sweitzer lane, and sweitzer lane is not listed on john’s helpful local maps. give it a good ten minutes and finally ask another driver while stopped at a red light. other driver says, “oh, just go straight ahead down 198, you can’t miss it!”]
john the firefighter AND sabrina
HOORAY!!!
john the firefighter AND sabrina
[drive straight up rt. 198 for about ten miles, in the opposite direction from which the cash admissions guy at laurel park racetrack had directed niqui.
13:30 ET. find the holiday inn on sweitzer lane!]
HOORAY!!!
sabrina
LESS THAN A MILE MY ASS.
sabrina
hello, i’d like to check in! my roommate has already checked in.
the holiday inn receptionist
yeah, your name is not on the room. no key for you.
sabrina
but… but… you don’t understand…
the holiday inn receptionist
sorry. you can put your bags behind the desk if you want.
sabrina
I STILL HATE MY LIFE.
john the firefighter
c’mon, i’ll buy you a beer.
sabrina
you are the most awesome person in the history of ever, even if you are crazy enough to pick up strange women lugging suitcases up country highways with no goddamn shoulders to wheel their damn wheely suitcases on.
john the firefighter AND sabrina
[go to local pub. killian’s for john, yeungling for sabrina. BEST. PINT. EVER. or at least since the first pint after the first leg of my very worst vacation ever in the history of vacationkind, but let’s not go there, shall we?]
john the firefighter
yep. hey, you wanna go have sex sometime? like, say, tonight?
sabrina
wow, did we just cross the line of the amount of bizarre shit i’m willing to put up with in one day. no, thank you!
john the firefighter
well, i had to try, right?
[drops me back at the hotel]
sabrina
[14:30 ET. finds roommate.]
OH MY GOD, Y’ALL. YOU. HAVE. NO. IDEA. WHAT. I. HAVE. BEEN. THROUGH. TODAY.
roommate
do you need a hug?
