The Hamptons - Take 1

To celebrate Memorial Day, a group of friends and I ventured out to a special place in the Hamptons called SeaCrest. It was fabulous to say the least and there are numerous stories that I could share but for now, just the one with the most bang - literally.

We got two rental cars from Budget Rental on the Upper East Side at 8 AM and hopped on FDR to escape the crazy pace of Manhattan. My car carried four lovely ladies. Everything is going great - we are driving in the HOV lane enjoying the radio and the wide open spaces of 495. We take the Hwy 27 with a feeling of ease due to the lack of traffic.

Around East Hampton, we hit it. The crawling traffic of five miles per hour going bumper to bumper. But no worries on the home front, we are out of the city and there is a super hot guy in a Range Rover behind us, shirtless with a great hair swoop. We are all swooning over here and toying with the idea of putting one of our phone numbers up in the window just like we did on junior high field trips. Life is good at this point.

But then we hear it. "What's that noise? The radio?"
"No, it can't be. Here turn it down."
"Ya'll that's the car."
"Riley, stick your head out and see if you see anything."
"OH MY GOSH! We have a FLAT!"
"WWHHAAATTT!?!?!"

We pull our tan Toyota Corolla rental to the side of the rode and find that we have not one, but two flat tires on the passenger side. LOVELY. Oh and Mr. Hottie with the great swoop well he drives by then pulls over on the other side of the road. "Ok, this might now turn out so bad after all," we say to each other. But just when it seems we might get to interact with the mysterious man in the Range Rover, he turns his car around and takes off. So much for being a knight in shining armor.

We have too much going on at this moment to be heartbroken, so we decided to leave the discussion of Mr. Lacking Southern Manners for another time (aka bedtime chat). We have a situation at hand that needs our attention PRONTO. Two flat tires and one spare - not going to work. We have the other rental LOOP us (oh the joys of an iPhone) because we had been separated at some point on the journey. At least this vehicle (a Pontiac that was nicknamed the GTO by the end of the trip) had three boys and surely one of them could change a tire.

Let me say this. Before the GTO arrived, we, as in the four girls, sat on the side of the road obviously needing help while NO ONE, no not a SINGLE car stopped to help us. Cars just idled on by gawking at us. This would NOT happen in Texas.

Finally the GTO arrives and we decide will use the spare from their car also. We run into a problem with the first five minutes of the tire change. The spare given to us in the Corolla will not fit. What kind of rental place is Budget? I mean seriously? There is no need in wasting time anymore. We go up to the closest house and find a sweet lady who was very helpful. She helped sort out everything with the tow trucks and let us leave the car there rather than make us wait from one to three hours for the Budget Roadside Assistance. In her graciousness, she redeemed her fellow Northeasterners from my opinion of being rude and unhelpful.

So here we are. There is a plan in place for the Corolla, but what about it's passengers. Well we weren't left with much of a choice. We all cram and I mean CRAM into the GTO. Did I mention I was claustrophobic? Nice, very nice.

We successfully make it to lovely SeaCrest about 45 minutes later. We head straight for the beach. Needless to say we need some space to stretch out!

Oh road trips...always an adventure in some form or fashion! :)