PREVOST,
The Ultimate Class
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A Really Bad Holiday Story; Kind of…
This isn’t one of those…”Twas the
night before Christmas…” stories at all.
In fact, quite to the contrary.
My wife, as she is want to do, goes
to Maine from here in Florida to visit our daughters and the grandchildren,
who she desperately believes cannot live their lives without her supervision.
Granted that they are 37 and 39 with families of their own, it is possible
that they do OK by themselves.
Nonetheless, I have pretty much
given up on snow, so I stay in Florida and she is off to the frozen, Godless
tundra of the north.
The days pass rather nicely, no one
to boss me around, touch up the stainless here and there, visit with friends;
an occasional nap, watch the shows on television I like to see; although the
dinner meals, are well, somewhat unusual from time to time. So I go out to
dinner with friends or alone.
But two years ago I wanted to do
something to demonstrate my undying affection for my wife, both loving our
Prevost so much, thought I could do something different and unexpected for her
with the coach. I thought and thought while she was gone, just what could I
do that would be different?
Then the great idea hit me: How
about picking her up at the airport in the coach? The convertor, for some
reason, had put in an ultimate horn package and lo and behold there were a
couple of holiday tunes on the program. What a better way than to pull up at
Tampa International Airport, horns ablazing with holiday cheer, a fresh cup of
coffee, “Joy to the World?”
So I went to work.
I washed, cleaned, vacuumed,
detailed out the stainless and the wheels were gleaming. I put the extra
special gunk on the tires to make them shine. I check with a friend who owned
a bus company that serviced TIA and he assured me that his buses went through
the airport all the time; he had the contract.
I was set.
At the appointed time, I readied
myself, what a site. I was more or less presentable myself and the coach was
stunning. It had never looked that good. It actually sparkled in the late
afternoon sun. Boy, was she going to have a nice surprise.
Off to the airport I went with high
expectations of holiday cheer, my neighbors thinking I was a bit whacky, “Why
don’t you just pick her up in the car?” Foolish people, what little
imagination do they have.
Huh.
Not much traffic, I was feeling
like a teenager with my dad’s new car a very long time ago for a date with the
best looking cheerleader on the team, as I rounded the exit off I-275, TIA,
here I come and look out you babes, I have the ultimate chick magnet here and
this coach is for one very special lady arriving in Florida.
As I approached the terminal, I was
surprised that the signs for “Arrivals” and “Departures” were rather low,
being that our coach was about 12’ 7” but my friend assured me, no problems at
all, hey, his business is bringing people to and from TIA every day, 24/7.
A nice swooping veer to the left
was all that was between the Prevost and the arrival gate, the terminal in
full view.
Ooops.
There was an incredibly large
cement buttress, OK, you could call it a bridge or raised highway, whatever,
“CLEARANCE 10 FEET,” which spanned the entire width of the road at the
arrivals curb. Not one to just accept thing as they were I did slow, but
looked at the ‘high’ side of the cement superstructure and it was blatantly
obvious at this point that the bus was about two feet too high to make it
under. I could also see other signs suspended in the arrivals area which were
even lower.
This dog won’t hunt.
However, I had gone past the point
of no return; the fork between the departures and arrivals area was about ¼
mile back there somewhere. Hmm. Might be a time to pull over and rethink
this one.
It didn’t take long before the
representatives of the TIA police department to drop by the coach for a visit,
with hazard flashers slashing through the night from the Prevost, almost
equaled by the red and blue lights of the cruiser. I thought the Prevost
looked awfully shiny amidst all those lights, and almost anyone would agree,
with that, I am sure.
I decided a good defense was a good
offense:
“Good evening officer, going to
pick up my wife here at the airport and it seems that the clearance here is a
bit low.”
He looked at the coach, at the
arrival area.
“You have to move this bus out of
here, you’re blocking traffic.”
And indeed, he did have a point
there, you could see lots of cars behind us and they had their lights on as
well. Some were even honking. Kind of them to share the joy of the season.
But this probably wasn’t the time to crank up the holiday music on the horns
in the coach. That much I was sure about.
I thought fast.
“What do you recommend?” I said,
thinking that deferring to his authority (a pretty obvious decision at this
point) was a good idea.
“Frankly, I don’t know Sir. What
ever made you think you could bring this huge bus in here to pick up your
wife?”
He had me on that one.
“Well sir,” (I said the “sir” part
quite distinctly, being that I do look like a bit of an absent-minded
eccentric anyway), “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Don’t you just hate that headshake
they do when they think you are completely nuts? He did one and then said,
“Don’t move the bus, I’ll be back.”
As my daughter used to say, “Well,
duuuhh.”
Gosh, wasn’t the traffic building
up behind us. You’d be surprised at how many people travel on Sunday evenings
in and out of TIA during the holiday season. And didn’t that Prevost look
sweet in the evening air. The breeze was out of the west, a soft sea waft in
contrast to the gleaming stainless steel of the coach, accented by the many
flashing lights and honking horns. We were having an event, right here, all
designed, well originally designed, to welcome my wife back to Florida with a
bit of grace and style.
Amidst the din of the coach, police
car(s) now, and very long back up of cars at TIA, I did notice that my
friend’s buses were city transit buses, all about 8’ high going in and out of
the airport. Aha, now that would make a difference.
Out of the cruiser came the police.
“I just heard from the Captain and
he is really ticked off.” (This was a moment for donut joke, but all things
considered, decided it was probably a good idea to stay serious).
“What you are going to do is back
up this bus,” pointing at our Prevost way back to the Interstate and then you
will follow me around the other side of the terminal and I will park you so
you can pick up your wife.”
Seemed like a good idea,
considering the alternatives at that point.
“But first, the Captain,” (he said
“Captain” in a very strong way) “is going to stop all the TIA traffic on the
interstate and we’ll let the flow of traffic into the airport. When I back
up, you back up. Got it?”
“Yes Sir!”
It took quite awhile for the
traffic to pass us by, but eventually it cleared and there was no traffic at
all. There we were, just the cruiser and the Prevost, still lights flashing.
I thought about turning on the spotlight up top for the heck of it, but
thought better than trying to show off. That was not a ‘show off’ time.
Heard his siren go “Whoooup,” and
we were off, backward, on a now deserted approach ramp to TIA, and he was able
to drive backwards much faster than I…and as it turned out, we had a
llloooonnnngggg way to back up. Ah, my wife would be so proud, she never
thinks I can back this thing up straight. Actually she should be able to see
me now, even at great altitude, due to all the lights on the ground which my
simple little idea had created.
After quite a distance, the cruiser
stopped. I looked out the pilot window and saw a rather large array of
awaiting automobiles, blocked from TIA by about four police cruisers. Our
Friend the Policeman, came up to the window and said, “OK, follow me now.”
He sped past the Prevost, motioned
me to follow and off we went, taking a previously unknown turn to the right
and the cruisers let the mass of traffic flow into the airport and boy weren’t
there a lot of cars. I hadn’t been aware of it, but I had held up traffic for
about 45 minutes. Oh, these non-retired people, I thought, they are always in
such a rush.
Wasn’t I surprised that we were
driving on the ramp of TIA? Here I was in the shiny Prevost, amongst the
airliners and many support vehicles. Wonder what the passengers in the
airplanes might be thinking about our coach on their turf. Just wish I had
the radio to monitor the pilots of the airplanes, as they had to wait until
our coach, led by our Friend the Policeman, passed by so they could get to
their gates. I didn’t want to think about the ‘flight delays at TIA” that
might have been caused by a crazed Prevost owner. Still don’t. Probably
wasn’t a good idea to turn on the in-motion dish to see if we made the news
either.
So around the terminus we went,
lights and sirens blazing, (I kept the hazard flashers on to make sure the
planes could see it really was a Prevost and to keep in the spirit of the
event). We got to drive fast too, which was fun when you have your own police
escort, how can they ticket you when they say, “Follow me?”
Eventually we made turns and
squirreled around the airport, landing at the loading dock for the United
States Postal Service. Our Friend the Policeman said, “You can park here.”
“I won’t get a ticket if I park
here will I?” Always thinking.
“This is my property and I decide
who gets a ticket,” said our Friend the Policeman, “Get in the car.”
This actually was the first moment
when I thought there was a chance I would be in one of those one-way glass
rooms, having the truth sweated out of me, like on tv.
But, no chance, instead he simply
said, “What airline is your wife coming in?”
I gave him the information and off
we went, lights on (no siren this time) and he assured me that what I did was
perhaps misguided by no crime. We did have the lights on because there was
still a rather significant backup of traffic into the arrival area, due to a
previous incident.
Right up to the curb he drove, to a
screeching halt. I thanked him and found how to get a shuttle bus back to our
coach and we departed as friends. My wife had just deplaned and said, “Hi,
where’s the car?”
“Ah, we have to take the shuttle
bus…I have a long story to tell you.”
And the shuttle took us to the
Prevost and we drove away.
But I did learn a few lessons from
all of this holiday season levity.
First, stay friends with the
Police. They can help you when they think you are pretty much nuts, but not
certifiable yet.
Second, realize that non-retired
people are always in a hurry. We all have different clocks we follow.
Most importantly, never, ever pull
a dumb stunt like taking a Prevost to the airport to pick up your wife. It’s
a great idea, but the reality of it is quite different..
Have a wonderful holiday season,
keep the rubber side down and take the car to the airport.
