August 3 – “Don’t say ‘BUS’”

Our final day in Arlington was one of … accomplishment?  I suppose that word works.  We met up with our friends who were interested in going on a cruise to Alaska next year.  I mean … we met up with them at the office of the travel agent.  Yep.  She was right there before us, presenting what amounted to final details before it was actually time to put down a deposit. 

That agent was an interesting individual.  She said everything three times.  At first it was a little disconcerting.  I thought maybe we were missing something.  But apparently that was just her adorable little quirk.  At least we had three chances to make sure we understood everything.  Oh, and we were “informed” in the course of her explanations that we would not be riding anywhere in a “bus.”  The proper term was “motorcoach.”  So … you’re actually telling me NOT to call a bus a bus?  That was an obvious invitation to do all I could to trick our hostess into saying the “B” word.  And boy, was she ever an easy mark.  At one point she asked if we had any questions.  I casually asked if there was a bathroom in the building that I could use.  She pointed it out, and I took a few steps in that direction.  Then I stopped and innocently asked, “Do the busses we’ll be riding in have bathrooms?”  And she replied, “Yes, the busses have bathrooms.”  I couldn’t resist.  “Gotcha.  You said ‘Bus.’”  She wagged her finger at me, but couldn’t seem to find words to reprimand me. 

She was good at what she did, though.  By the time we completed the meeting we had put down a deposit.  Looks like we are in for the trip next summer.  Now to work out the details of getting it paid for …

After the meeting we headed for the next stop on our convention journey … Waco.  We had quite the decision to make as far as what route to take.  Three choices.  The fastest would be to stay on the interstate all the way.  Not happening.  Choice number two would be the international route.  It would take us through the booming metropolis of Italy, Texas.  As tempting as that was, we decided to take option number three, the interstellar route.  We drove right through the town of Venus, Texas.  Strange, though.  The residents looked like human beings, not aliens.  Perhaps they have taken on our form to more effectively infiltrate our society before the invasion …

Psalms 89:8 says, “O Lord God Almighty, who is like you?  You are mighty, O Lord, and your faithfulness surrounds you.”

Father, thank you for places like Venus and Italy and Waco and Arlington and … Alaska.  Amen.