Summer vacation? Oh boy, you don’t WANNA know…
Okay. Since you asked so nicely. 
Microbug and I decided to go visit her cousin B in Miami. This was a spur-of-the-moment thing- we’re in the middle of crunch time at my job, but they said that if I wanted to take a vacation, I needed to take one right away, before we go onto the next project.
Money’s a little tight right now, so we decided to do a cheap vacation- and going to visit a cousin for some diving in the Florida Keys sounded just dandy. So we piled everything into the truck, including the mighty Flash and Two-Tone (world’s best dogs).
Twenty-three hours later, we arrived in Florida. The truck’s having some transmission problems, but nothing that’ll keep it from running. When we get to B’s house, she welcomes us with the info that she and her fiance are having problems, and that she won’t be able to spend too much time with us, as she’s going to be looking for a new apartment. No problem for us, as he’s currently working on location in Dallas.
I suppose, for the sake of clarity, I should explain that he’s a sound technician on the television show, Cops. B is a tall, blonde, gorgeous, black belt, Miami cop.
Anyway, they live in a gated community. We’re told when we get there, as well, that to put someone on “the list” is a major hassle, so for the week we’ll be pretending to be some other friends of theirs so that we can get through the gate. Annoying, but not too bad.
Okay, so there’s the situation.
The next morning, we took the dogs to a local beachfront dog park. Flash and Two-Tone have never seen the ocean before- and they LOVED it. Flash played so much fetch I thought he was going to drown. Oh, and they both thought the water tasted SO good…
Yep, they both got sick. Flash pretty much exploded when we got back to the apartment complex- luckily, once we got him out of the truck and before we went up to the apartment. They were both cleaned out fairly well.
Yick.
After making sure they were okay, Microbug and I went to the beach ourselves and had a good time. We then met B for sushi down on the strip- her and a male “friend”, also a cop.
Warning bells started going off in my head.
She also told us that her fiance had found out about her apartment hunting, and was flying back to try to patch things up.
At this point, I was ready to go home. I didn’t want to deal with that sort of thing- I hate being in the middle.
We went our seperate ways- B had to go to work early the next day, so she wanted to go to bed early. Microbug convinced me that we really should stay at least one more day, and do the diving that we’d already arranged. Okay, I said. We hung around a bit longer on the strip, then started to head back.
Then when we went back to the apartment, we found out that the gate actually checks ID after eleven- and ours didn’t say we were who we were supposed to be. No problem, just call up to B’s apartment and have her let us in… Oh, she’s not answering?
We try her cell phone- she says she’ll be right over, that she didn’t want to be there that night, and that she was going to stay over at a friend’s house.
She pulls up a few minutes later- in the male cop friend’s car. sigh
Apparently, THAT’S the friend whose house she’s staying at.
She lets us in, then drives off. A few minutes after we go inside, the fiance shows up… and we get to pretend we didn’t know a thing about where she was.
In the morning, we call to reschedule the dive- and it turns out that they’ve been trying to reach us. It turns out that the boat’s died, and they had to cancel all the dives.
No problem- we’re OUTTA here.
We spent more time actually ON the road, than in Miami.
Worst damn vacation I’ve ever taken…