Man, I’m pissed. A month ago I attempted to coax Belle into coming out to L.A. for a week, half jokingly in the sense I never thought she’d come. Lo and behold she’s interested! Booyah. “when?” she asks. I pull the first week of April out of my arse. I sweeten the pot by telling her the Dodgers open the season that week with 3 games versus our beloved Atlanta Braves. “What else?” Dang…seeing me isn’t enough? Well how about:
- Universal Studio tour
- watch a Jay Leno tv show being taped
- stroll Venice Beach to stare at the weirdos
- ferry over to Catalina Island
- eat at The Kettle (my fav breakfast spot near the beach)
- visit Hollywood Walk of Fame (throw some dirt on Tom Selleck’s star)
- see Hollywood sign
- drive down Sunset Blvd & Rodeo drive and look for famous people
- go ice skating (yes, there’s an ice rink 1 mile from home)
- visit Wild Animal Park in San Diego
Voilah! She’s sold. She gets approval for the vacation time so I put in for mine, thinking it’s a mere formality. After all, I am requesting it three fucking months in advance and according to the official vacation calendar (which Boss #1 insists everyone fill out) that block is open. She tells me (and sadly confirms today) she and Boss #2 will be out of town that week so no dice on my going anywhere. Now, 999 times out of 1,000 I wouldn’t care about any specific week but that is the only time all year the Braves will be in town. 150 freaking games and they have to pick that week to play ATL. To add insult to injury Belle’s company requires everyone to request vacation for the entire year in January. Chances are the rest of that month may be booked by someone else already. It’s all a conspiracy by The Man just tryin to keep a brotha down.