Sometimes when we don't tip our Shuttle Bus Driver, the honesty's too much...!

As my holidays are coming to an end, I find myself reflecting back on the wonderful time Donovan and I had together. Granted, he wasn't able to get an entire 2.5 weeks off like I was, but he still managed to fanagle a day or two. We took advantage of this opportunity to fly out to Calgary on the long weekend (after having been entertained by Glass Tiger the night before at the casino! Wow, what a show!).

This is when I began feeling like Cousin Eddie was going to show up and bbq some buns for us. (National Lampoon's Vacation reference, in case you didn't know!)

We got to the airport in Winnipeg, checked in, and got to the boarding lounge. The flight was scheduled to depart at 11 a.m. But then God decided, "No, no, we'll let them wait it out for a bit," and sent some nasty weather our way. We were grounded in YWG for 2 hours due to the storm.

Not fun situation #1.

Finally, 1 p.m. rolls around, and it's time to board. We get on the plane, grab our seats, and we're off! We arrived into YYC (Calgary) just after 2 p.m. local time, and made our way over to the car rental building. We hadn't made reservations - we never do when we fly, there's always something available. Why would this time be any different?

Oh, but it was.

We found ourselves fighting our way through a jungle - a maze, if you will - of hoards of angry, frustrated and anxious people waiting to get their arses in a rental. People were everywhere - waiting in neverending line-ups, sitting on the floor along the walls, hanging from the ceiling. Just a mess of flesh and flailing limbs everywhere we turned. We went to 4 different car rental places, all telling us the same thing: "Do you have a reservation? No? Well then, I'm sorry, we're all sold out."


Not fun situation #2.

We decided to try ONE LAST place, holding out hope that maybe - JUUUUUST maybe - there would be something for us.

The chick at Budget told us they had nothing left except for convertibles (which I wouldn't have minded!) for $189 per day (which Dono DID mind)! After receiving this devastating news and exchanging a hopeless "Well, NOW what do we do?" look, the chick at Budget interrupts our vacant glances to tell us that a car has JUST arrived, for $89 a day, and would be ready in 10 minutes!

We grabbed it - and then we were off! We rented a room in a luxury hotel, with a pool we took advantage of every night. We had fun driving around, cranking tunes and getting lost in Cow Town, visiting friends and family. Those 3 days just whizzed by, and before we knew it, it was time to leave.

Tuesday morning, we arranged for a shuttle to take us to the airport (after having to return our car the day before). The shuttle bus driver - let's call him Manuel - was wonderfully friendly and curiously perky for 6:30 in the morning, but we didn't mind. "Let me take your bags, Sir," he said to Dono, as I hopped on board the complimentary shuttle to secure us a seat before the Air Canada crew with whom we were sharing our shuttle got on.

The ride to the airport was nice first thing in the morning. Watching the sun come up, Dono and I were snuggling in the back of the shuttle bus to Manuel's surprising music selection - the soft sounds of Dan Hill's Sometimes When We Touch.

Definitely peculiar choice for first thing in the morning. Didn't really get our days kick-started, that's for sure. We ventured a guess and decided that Manuel's past involved a very torrential love story: he was in love with a woman named Panalpina (or something of the sort). She loved him dearly, in fact this Dan Hill tune was their song. They used to dance all through the night to the sultry sounds of Mr. Hill, gazing longingly into each other's eyes....until Panalpina fell into the ice sculpture on the head table at the reception after having had too much to drink, and died instantly as the feathers of the ice peacock pierced her heart.

We figure if we could listen really hard, we could hear a single tear rolling down Manuel's cheek, as he relives his passion for Panalpina over and over with every note of the song.

As we arrived at the airport and stepped out of the shuttle bus, we realized we had no change to tip Manuel for the service which he provided.

Once he realized it, this was where Manuel tasted the bittersweetness of his tear, and his sadness turned to rage, as he began flinging our luggage all over the sidewalk, nearly running us over as he peeled out of there! That was the last time we saw him, careening off into the horizon, probably sobbing and spitting all at the same time.

I guess the honesty of us not having any spare change - coupled with the memories of his dead Panalpina - WAS just too much for Manuel to bear.

Well, glad to be home now!