A week ago tonight we left on vacation. Our first stop was to Pasadena to see Erin and Mark.
In order to keep to non-stop flights, we left via Dulles in DC, which meant a 175 mile drive after dropping the dogs off at the kennel. We got there in plenty of time, and the flight went off without a hitch. Well, except the usual part about being squashed in coach.
What I don't understand came at the other end. We get to Hertz at about 8 pm, 3 days before Christmas, and there are four agents on duty at LAX. It took an hour to get a car and get our of there.
The drive up to Pasadena was surprisingly easy, and we got in touch with Erin right away, informing her that daddy was hungry. They met us at our hotel, and we walked over to the Paseo Colorado for dinner, which is only a block away from the Sheraton.
They started out trying to take us to the Yard House, which we rejected when they told us it had a 45 minute wait (around 10 pm). That was fine with me. It was a screamingly loud club, which isn't what I really wanted then. Actually, it's not what I ever want.
Instead, we wound up at Islands, which was good, and what I needed at that time of night. Pork tacos, and a shared Kona Pie.
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