Travels with The Rayman

Today was the day that we had booked a train trip to Moorpark, CA to buy a car from a man that listed a 2009 Honda Fit Sport on Craigslist.  Our plan was to purchase said vehicle to tow behind The Dog House.

 

 

The train trip involved a bus trip from the Grover Beach Amtrak station (chosen because parking is free) to Santa Barbara.  I can’t even explain why the train doesn’t run.  Who would know?  We didn’t.  It just doesn’t.  So there.

 

So, if you book a train trip that involves the bus, where do you suppose the bus would pick you up?  We figured it would pick us up at the train station that was printed on the ticket.  A logical assumption.

Well, we arrived 10 minutes early and waited until 6 minutes past the departure time and no bus was forthcoming.  We re-read our ticket and I called Amtrak.  Where the heck was the bus?  One man was in the parking lot.  We asked him.  He said we were in the right spot.  As calamity is our middle name, he was as wrong as we were.  NO BUS ARRIVED.  So, as I was standing there stamping my foot because as I was on hold with Amtrak, a big white bus from the other side of the train track behind a big fence pulled away heading south.  OMG.  We missed the bus.  And to add insult to injury I looked inside the unattended train station and there was a sign that said BUS PASSENGERS SHOULD CROSS THE TRACKS TO REACH THE DEPARTURE LOCATION.

“So, what to do?  Rayman discovered an Enterprise car rental around the corner.  “No, no, no”, I cried.  “Let’s figure out where the next stop is and catch the bus there.”  But I hung up before the Amtrak agent came on the line so I didn’t know where the next stop was.  So, we jumped in the car as I re-dialed Amtrak which kept me on hold until we had reached the freeway which took a really long time because we hit every light.  The bus was no where in sight.  We sped on.  Finally the Amtrak agent came on and announced that the next stop was at an IHOP in Santa Maria.  I put the address into the Garmin which had us get off the freeway where there was absolutely no IHOP.  By this time we were pretty much screaming at each other.  “There’s no IHOP here.  There’s nothing here.”  Rayman screamed, “Well what the hell do you want me to do?  OMG.  There is the bus.”   We both looked to our left, and there was the bus driving away from an IHOP that sat right next to the freeway about a mile from the other off ramp that did not lead to an IHOP.  “SOB”, he snarls.   At this point, I helpfully suggested we head to Lompoc which we found out from the Amtrak agent was the 2nd stop.  “That’s crazy, Dianna.”  To which I replied, “Well, it’s close to Casmalia.”

Now the importance of this Casmalia place is that we had decided before the bus was missed that we would have dinner at Casmalia on the way home.  Casmalia is near Vandenberg AFB which is close to Lompoc which is where the next bus stop was located.

To continue, “That’s nuts, Dianna.  We don’t even know where the bus stops.”  I interjected, “Yes we do.  It’s 123 I street.”  At this point, Rayman begins to take on a bluish color and I know I have overstepped my boundary.  Then he shrieks, “…..”.     Expletive omitted.

Then we start laughing.  Inexplicably we start laughing.  OMG.  What is wrong with us?  Why does this always happen to us?”  No obvious answer was forthcoming.  I mean let’s think about this, people.  If we wonder if we are stupid, we would be stupid for wondering that.  I could on and on but I think you get the idea.

Then reality set in and I retracted my idea.  I said, “What do you want to do?”  Between clinched teeth, “I’m not going to discuss it.”  After a bit of prying (and before the next freeway offramp) he said he wanted to just drive to Santa Barbara because he knew where it was and that is where we were scheduled to get on the train.  Yep.  Take a bus to catch a train.

But I digress.

We did what he wanted because he was right.

So all this meant that we drove to Santa Barbara, parked the car, went to lunch and caught the train to Moorpark.  Then we bought the car from a great guy who hails from Bulgaria who went to UCLA and is now an electrical engineer.  His girlfriend is from Albania.

So there it was.  The red zip zip car.  It rides hard and sort of whines at 65.  There’s only one arm rest.  It runs like a top.  And it is a shifter.  Getting both feet involved at the same time the arms are involved is almost quaint (except at NASCAR).

We then drove together to Santa Barbara.  Then the Rayman took our Lexus and I took the Fit and we were on our way to Casmailia.  About half way there, I called Ray and said that my enthusiasm for dinner at Casmalia was waning.  Rayman agreed that to drive 20 miles out of our way was also losing it’s appeal for him so we stopped in Pismo for dinner.

And that’s what happened today.