Branson- Las Vegas for the Blue Haired and Broke- Part #1

The plan:  Okay, there really was no plan.  I have a Living Social account and I am constantly browsing for what I can get for a steal.

The find:  A three night stay in a 2 bedroom condo.  http://escapes.livingsocial.com/deals/28955?ref=email-jp&rpi=8185989.  Branson is scary to me but I decide that the deal is too great to miss.  Larry and I have never taken a trip with all of the kids, at least not a real family trip.  It was close to home and half the regular price.  Sold.

The place:  Branson, Missouri (aka Hillbilly Land).  I’ve been there before but I tried to remove all memory of previous visits from my mind.  As much as I try to forget, I imagine scenes from Deliverance and I picture little blue-haired women playing banjos with their toe calluses.  WTF have I got myself into?

The first problems:  Besides the obvious mental anguish I placed upon myself from the thought of traveling to Branson, right off the bat I had problems with our reservations.  The first email I received from the Suites at Fall Creek listed the wrong arrival date.  I called and corrected it and was promised a new email with a corrected date.  3 phone calls and weeks later, I finally got that corrected email.

The date:  We planned the trip for a weekend that the kids would all be back from summer time spent with their dads.  We also planned for a time when there would be mild temps,  so we chose June 23rd.  Did you know 23 was my lucky number?  Probably not.  Do you know why?  Interesting fact about me #1- I LOVED Michael Jordan as a child.  So much so that 23 was my number for everything.  I would fight just to have that number for anything I did.  Still to this day, it’s my pick.

So, at this point we have spent $285.  Okay, our boarding is covered.  Let’s get on the road.

Pleasant Valley to Grandview, Missouri.  Maybe twenty minutes?  We loaded up all of our bags and our dog and headed towards Winding River Kennel.  I hoped that Bowser wouldn’t be an ass in the Yukon for the short drive.  I was wrong.  I had twenty minutes of dog saliva dripping down my arm, constant brushes by an empty ball-sack and the total annoyance of having a dog that acts like a complete misfit.  If I hadn’t raised him from a few weeks old, I would totally blame his owner.  In this case however, it is surely someone else’s fault.  When we reach Winding River, I walk him in and hand him over to my pal Sam.  Sam takes him and tried to shoo me out the door.  When I finally leave (after making them move him and after being neurotic about his toys) I get back in the Yukon with tears in my eyes and sadness in my heart.  I wish the old fart could go with us.  Too bad he was raised to be a monster.

A few miles down the road, IHOP calls to us.  I imagine IHOP is what one would experience with a cheap whore.  Disgustingly amazing, cheap, fast and sticky with a slight risk of catching an STD.  $50 later, we walk out with a full belly and genital warts.

Next stop, Lowery City.  Gas is important when you have to drive somewhere.  Oh, and peeing… that is VERY important.  Unless you have a Tommy Tee-Tee, although I don’t think they make those anymore.  Now they are called Mountain Dew bottles.

At 3:00 we make it to Branson.  I must wee-wee like nobody’s business so we barely make it off of the highway and on to 76 before I make Larry stop at McDonald’s.  Surely, McDonald’s is a nice and clean place.  Um, no.  I believe that whatever STD’s that I didn’t catch at IHOP were bestowed upon me once I walked into that bathroom.  I have never in my entire life seen a bathroom so disgusting.  Not at a truck stop, race track, pasture or even after that one Denny’s episode (full body shiver).  The toilet paper already had poop on it and the one toilet that wasn’t clogged had a fancy shag toilet seat cover.  It was made of mohair or something, really fancy.  Not mohair you think?  You are correct.  A huge pube monster died in that bathroom stall.  Sad.

We leave McNasty’s and drive on to our condo so we can get some idea of where it’s at.  It’s 3:30 and I have insisted that we are not allowed to check in before 4pm, under any circumstances.  Larry sends me in and sure enough, the bastards have to make me look like an idiot.  As usual.  Within minutes, I had 4 room cards and Larry had a smug smile on his face that I wanted to bash in with a tire iron.

4:00 pm- We open up the door with one of the keys to a small one-bedroom room with a kitchenette.  I completely freak out and begin throwing things.  Two rooms is a bedroom and a bathroom?  Larry again smiles smugly and leaves the room with the other cards and then he suddenly reappears through a door that I completely disregarded.  I walk through and suddenly, I get it!!  We have a GIGANTIC place to stay!  It was amazing!