So, the task of finally telling about the last approximately week and a half comes along and sits itself down on my desk, lights a cigarette, and says, “Hey baby, what about me?”
Or something like that.
I should begin where last I left you, when I was heading to Salt Lake City to drop off my dad. I was gonna again hang out with Mark and stay at his friend Matt’s place, but that’s where things got a bit complicated.
When I got to Salt Lake, I called Mark to let him know I was in town and see if he wanted to hang out. My dad always insists on staying close to the airport, so we were a bit north of the city. So Mark picks up Matt, and they drive up to meet me.
Since it’s pretty late and I have to take daddy-o to the airport at 6am, we decide to just go to the Village Inn next to the hotel and get some coffee (which ended up turning into about five cups each).
As we’re walking over, Mark informs me that his mom has had it with his brother, sister-in-law, and their screaming child, so he and his mom are leaving on some sort of road trip tomorrow. I ask where to, and he says “either Reno or Phoenix.”
Thanks for narrowing it down, bud.
Anyway, we go, we hang out, and then I say goodbye to the monkey, since he had decided not to come to Vegas. I tell Matt I’ll see him tomorrow, and that I’ll call him when I get to his place.
So, the next day, after taking dad to the airport, going back to the hotel and taking a nap and a shower, and getting a carwash and a sub, I head down to Matt’s place. I call him up once I get in and say, yo, what time are you getting back?
“Oh, I’m going out with some people from work who are getting married, I’m not gonna be back ’til like 10 or 11.”
Backing up for a second, he had mentioned that he has told nobody he works with that he has a female houseguest, because the last time he spent any time alone with a woman who was not his girlfriend, they accused him of cheating (which he was not) and tried to cheer up his extremely confused girlfriend.
So I know I’m not invited. So now I’m stuck in a city I don’t really know, where the only other people I know are Mark’s brother and sister-in-law and their screaming child, who I strongly suspect don’t want to hang out.
So I get on Moviefone.com, and find the local art cinema, jumping for joy at the hint of culture. I see that the theater is showing both Bowling for Columbine and Real Women Have Curves, both of which I wanted to see, so I decide, fuck it, I can’t get the cable to work, I’ll go see some movies.
Because Salt Lake’s street layout is so ridiculously simple, I could sort of find my way around after only a few days. The problem was, while Moviefone had the theater’s address correct, the map they had for where it was located was totally wrong.
The map showed that the theater was located in what turned out to be an industrial district (22nd South and West Temple). The theater was actually located right downtown, though I didn’t know that 300 North is also called Broadway, so I didn’t realize this.
Luckily, I drove right past the actual theater on my way to the place the map had indicated. I was like, hm, this place is playing exactly the same movies. I bet this is it, but I’d better double check. So I did, and of course, there was nothing there but empty warehouses.
The movies turned out to be pretty good, but I was still pretty cranky and pissed when I got back. Matt didn’t end up getting back until 2am, by which point I had already been asleep for at least an hour and a half.
I had already decided to drive down to Vegas a day early when I found out a snowstorm was supposed to hit on the day I wanted to drive down, but I just figured this for a further sign that I needed to get the fuck out of Mormonville.
I hoped this was not a sign of things to come. Fortunately, it was not.
More to come…