Road Trip
I’m taking Christy to see Rascal Flatts up in Scranton this weekend partly to atone for a past ticket theiving transgression.
OK. I was a assface and stole tickets to the show years ago from her. She married me anyway, and now I’m trying to make up for it.
So why did I choose to take her to the lovely and exotic destination of Scranton, Pennsylvania? Dude, because it’s SCRANTON! Didn’t you ever watch Home Alone where the mom is trying to get back to Kevin and lands in Scranton and John Candy and his polka band drive her to Chicago? YEAH! SCRANTON!
Honestly though, it’s a little get away for us. We’re driving up Friday night, staying in a Comfort Suites, spending the day Saturday, seeing the concert that night and driving home late Sunday morning. I thought it would be nice for us to go away for a weekend, and compared to the Tweeter Center in Camden, Scranton should look like Vegas. Lol.
I’m excited. The only part I’m nervous about is the actual drive up there. Christy doesn’t do well in car trips. Or boat trips. Or trips period. She likes having her feet planted on the ground. It’s only a few hours. Maybe I can keep her distracted long enough to not notice she’s been in a car for 3 hours. =D
