Then we got a taxi to Fox Car Rentals, which is near the airport. About five minutes after getting to the rental place, I realised I had left my favourite aviator sunglasses and my gps device in the cab. C'est la vie. Ed was surprised I wasn't more pissed off at the whole thing but I was calm. I think I was just more focused on getting the car. We had several options, the cars at the level we had paid for had all been taken, so we had a pick of cars from the next level up, which were much nicer. We wondered around the lot looking for a good choice. I liked the look of a large white Jeep, but I knew I wouldn't feel comfortable driving such a large car and that the petrol would cost much more. So we grabbed a lovely black Chevrolet Malibu.
I had not properly driven a car for nearly a year and I had only gotten my licence just back then. I was fairly nervous with my limited experience I was going to be driving on roads that killed many far more skilled drivers every year. I thought I would probably crash the thing before leaving the rental companies parking lot, and then they would demand the car back. As it happened, the car handled beautifully and I drove the car back to the house without incident. Well...almost back to the house without incident.
Turning on to my uncle's street I was brimming with the pride and confidence from a successful drive where I had been more than comfortable and safe. My uncle has a garage and a large space outside the garage to park his cars. No-one in America uses their garage to park cars, they generally use it as storage space. Outside his garage my uncle had a Toyota pick-up truck parked all the way to the left of the space. On the other side he had a silver Mazda sports car. I turned into the drive way hard and fast, eager to finalise the successful journey.
"STOP. NO!" screamed Ed. But he was too late. I had driven our car into the side of the Mazda. I tried to reverse. It didn't work. I tried to go forward. It didn't work. I had stuck the Chevy to the sports car. Now I was worried. Ed and I tried to push the Chevy away from the Mazda. Then we tried to lift it. Then we tried doing the same things to the sports car. Nothing worked.
(I must point out that if any Fox Car Rental employee reading this is wondering if there was any damage to their car I must categorically state NO THERE WASN'T. When I returned the car at 5am one morning in July it was inspected for damage and passed that rigorous 30 second inspection. Any damage to said car must have been picked up after my return. Do not question Ed about this, firstly his name is a cunning pseudonym to protect this man's true identity and secondly, this man is a liar and a drunk.)
Eventually we got help from the neighbours. A kind stoner jacked up the Mazda and let it roll back so we could get our car out. That was my confidence gone. I was supposed to be driving to Vegas the next day. How was I going to take us for an eight hour drive when I couldn't go half an hour without an accident? I tried to sleep to calm down. However, it is very hard to sleep when the sun is shining brightly in to a room and you are hyped up with adrenaline from an accident. I took the car to the beach and tried to practice parking the car to regain a little confidence. I came centimetres away from getting the car stuck a second time. Also, there were police just cruising around the parking lot that stopped to watch me, curious as to why I was just sitting there re-parking a car. Then I looked into booking plane flights to avoid having to drive to Las Vegas. As it turns out, return flights would have cost a similar amount to the car rental. Sadly, most of our money had already gone on the car (well my money, Ed was just borrowing at this point).
We went to the theme park. The park had been there since 1925, and the rides had not really been improved upon since. I rode the roller-coaster I had always been scared of as a child/teenager. I don't think I ever really like the free fall feeling as much as most people. Secondly, any adrenaline rush from these rides was nothing to speeding down a motorway in a rented car knowing you barely know a thing about driving and have two lives at stake, including your own.
After the theme park, we go back to the house. The neighbours invite us up. We end up getting a Mexican dinner, drinking wine (boxed and bottled, at one point a combination of the two) and chatting a while. We were told a story about an old baseball player that had become a radio show host. Apparently, though he was a quality player in the pre-steroids era, he didn't have a strong grasp of the English language. One day a woman called up to complain, "Sir, I must complain, you don't know the Queen's English." To which the presenter replied something like,
"Old Duke knows the Queen's English, Old Duke knows the King is English too."
Then we watched Wrong Turn 2. That is, until the woman tried to sleep and couldn't because of the noise. Several arguments ensue as the man, slightly drunk, continues to strive to watch this classic. Until she gets angrier and he sobers up a little, then we are gently forced out of the house.
I decide we will have to leave for Vegas a few hours later than planned. Driving with no ability is bad enough, there was no point driving while possibly still a little drunk.
