Wherein Carolyn and friends get lost in Vacaville (specifically, the airport parking lot), where they find a shop that sells ice cream made from cows.
Friday, 7 p.m. downtown Sacramento. LuAnne gets a new necklace that suits her just fine. This jewelry-related information has nothing to do with being lost in Vacaville or anything else documented in this post. Please forget you even read these introductory sentences. Thank you.
Sunday, 2 p.m. Sacramento Executive Airport. Susan and Carolyn board a tiny plane piloted by necklace enthusiast LuAnne Sloan. Susan is the unofficial copilot, as she is the only one onboard with a sense of direction. Carolyn has the backseat to herself. She couldn’t be more thrilled.
Sunday, 3 p.m. Sacramento ->Vacaville. LuAnne lands in Vacaville. “Vaca” means “cow” in Spanish, so it should come as no surprise that Vacaville is a fun, hip town. LuAnne, Susan, and Carolyn consider purchasing houseplants, eat ice cream at Fenton’s, and almost get lost in the airport parking lot.
Sunday, 3:30 p.m. Vacaville -> Sacramento. In an apparent attempt to live more dangerously, Susan hands off copiloting duties to Carolyn. Carolyn puts on some fancy headphones and runs LuAnne through 49 different checklists. Afterward, LuAnne for some reason feels safe enough with Carolyn as her copilot to take off.
“Where are we?” LuAnne says.
“How in the hell should I know,” Carolyn says.
Carolyn’s response thereby encourages Susan to grab the headphones and draw upon her navigational skills to determine our exact location.
Sunday, 5 p.m. SoCal’s Tavern, East Sac. LuAnne, Susan, and Carolyn swing by SoCal’s for a well-earned drink and a game of shuffleboard. Unfortunately, a flirty couple is in hour 7 of a 14-hour shuffleboard game, which looks to be the least effective (or least-speedy) pre-Valentine’s mating ritual ever.
This has been your 48 hours in the life “lost in Vacaville” report. You’re welcome.
2 Responses
Carolyn, you can be my copilot anytime! You did an outstanding job reading the checklist!
For the record, we were utilizing a service called “Flight Following” who was tracking us on radar to make sure we didn’t run into any other jets, towers, UFOs, flying pigs, etc and they make sure we don’t stray too far off course. I love them so much. One of the best uses of my tax dollars ever. Maybe for an adrenaline rush, next time we fly we won’t use them!
I named my SoCal’s cider Carolyn.
I named my Libra symbol “LuAnne.” 🙂