"Yep, you could have been on the interstate all night. Only the back way 'round from Phoenix could've saved ya and that's windy as hell too," we heard from the cashier at the gas station half way back to Flagstaff. "Twenty car pile-up a week ago, coulda been out there all night, uh huh." I started scratching again just hearing the story. Me, Beefy Boy, and Emily were free and hadn't been arrested for our illegal turn on I40 but we were also heading in the wrong direction. I held back tears. We needed cocktails and ointment for my rash.
When the alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. at the Flagstaff LaQuinta, I thrashed around cursing the hour. "Emily, Emily!" She didn't budge, nor did Beefy Boy who was planted at her side on the other bed. "We gotta go, 7 hours to Santa Fe...think of the turquoise, silver and shopping ... we could get there by noon," I groaned. I'm not sure but I think we slept in our clothes. I also think we were still wearing them as we dragged ourselves to the car.
Charm oooozed from every little adobe building in Old Santa Fe and there was turquoise and silver jewelry as far as the eye could see. Every store was loaded with the stuff. We measured the afternoon in bracelets. "How much is this one?" That was all either of us said for 5 hours. "That's $250" was always the answer. "Huh?" was always my response. Every freaking piece of jewelry no matter how big, small or beaded was at least $250! It's cheaper at Neiman Marcus was all I could think. (Which reminded me I had to return a pair of shoes). "This little silver bracelet with one teenie weenie piece of turquoise is $250?" I said to a local Indian displaying his things on a blanket in the square. I thought he was my one shot at a cheaper price seeing as how he had no overhead. He nodded. I stared. Even Beefy Boy stared. I sadly realized I could only afford the local "charm." Thankfully, we cheered ourselves up from shopping despair with spicey southwestern crab cakes and a bottle of red Zinfindel.
We were exhausted, bracelet-less and still in yesterday's clothes when we dragged ourselves back to the LaQuina Inn at the outer edge of town. It looked dicey but doable given we had been up for 15 hours. Nothing like what was in our motel future! Stay tuned for Gail, Emily and Beefy Boy in motel terror.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
To begin, my dear every person, every woman, every man, every child and every droid who has ever been in the Southwest has at least one piece of turquoise and silver jewelry rotting in the bottom of some drawer.
Every turquoise and silver spoon is under the sink, bent or broken from the kids digging up rocks in the yard.
Nobody, but nobody wears that stuff. The only ones whoever did, did so to show they had traveled to the Southwest - which they probably thought was "overseas". At least you don't have to look like one of those.
It's OK to email me about wanting to make such a purchase but for God sake don't put it in one of your blogs.
Post a Comment