Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 06 (8 page)

memphis airport

Let the Luuurve trail commence!!!

Me and Jas did a tribute disco inferno dance when we got off the plane.

twenty minutes later, waiting for our luggage

I haven't seen anyone who hasn't got a mustache yet.

And frankly that is not attractive in a woman.

customs

I was singing “Head 'em up, round 'em up, head 'em out, rawhide. Head 'em up, round 'em up, head 'em out, rawhide rawhiiiiiiiiide” in an amusing and entertaining way as we got our stuff and trundled along to customs, but it was, I have to say, not going down very well. In fact it was like being in Hawkeye City.

The customs man asked me if I was bringing in any livestock. I thought he was having a laugh, so I said, “Only, as you see, my father and his mate.”

He wasn't having a laugh.

Not at all.

in our rental car

A willing but dim Hamburger-a-gogo chap (with a mustache) showed us to a massive black limo–type scenario. It was called a “mustang” or “arsekicker” or something. Anyway, it was big as a big thing. Dad and Uncle Eddie were ecstatic, kicking the tires and so on—it is vair vair sad.

The w-but-d chap said, “This is your vee-hick-el, sir. Now, you all drive safely, you hear?”

What was he going on about?

What is a vee-hick-el?

Jas said, “Does he mean a vehicle?”

I said, “Get loose, Jassy Spazzy. Who cares as long as the vee-hick-el is a Luuurve vee-hick-el. Prepare to enter the vee-hick-el. Adjust your knickers, we are on our way!!”

After a million years of Dad fiddling with keys, we got into one of the eighty-five million seats inside and snuggled down whilst Vati and Uncle
Eddie twiddled with their knobs.

I hugged Jazzy. And amazingly she hugged me back.

I said, “Jas, I am sooo excited, aren't you?”

She said, “Ooh look, there is a little TV on the back of the seat!”

As the Thunderbird-a-gogo or whatever it was took off at one mile an hour, driven by Dad, I said to Jas, “I can almost smell Masimo.”

She said, “Oo-er.”

And then we both fell about laughing. I think I have got hysterical jet lag. Dad and Uncle Eddie were singing “I Left My Heart in San Franciso” and have already started yelling “howdy” out of the window at anyone we pass.

It's only a matter of time before they are taken to jail. So things are looking up.

6:30 p.m. timewise

I think someone forgot to mention something to me. It's HUGE here! The buildings, the signs, the shorts. Everything is HUGE here. And bloody hot.

I'd ask Dad to turn on the air-conditioning if I didn't know what a waste of time that was. He's
already opened the sun roof ten times when he was trying to change gears.

And more to the point, there ISN'T a gear stick, this is an automatic car.

6:45 p.m.

Fifty million years of swaying about in the back of a vee-hick-el driven by someone who doesn't know what side of the road is the right one (and that's when we are in England). It was only when we passed the same group of people for the fifth time and they started waving and cheering that Dad let Uncle Eddie drive.

hotel
7:15 p.m.

This is more like it. A huge driveway lined with hibiscus and palm trees and a fountain and then a hotel with about fifty-six floors. Tip-top hotel life. As soon as we screeched to a halt a millimeter away from the fountain, some chap in a uniform opened the car doors. He seemed vair vair cheerful, like someone had told him a really good joke. Perhaps he had heard about the clown-car convention. Or seen Uncle Eddie trying to park. He
smiled and clapped his hands and said, “Well, how are you all doing? Come on in, come on in!!! Welcome to Memphis, folks. The home of Elvis—but this is not Heartbreak Hotel, no siree, this is
your hotel
!” Good Lord. I said to Uncle Eddie really quietly, “Put your foot down and drive like the wind.”

But Mr. Smiley Mad Pants had already taken all our bags inside. Still grinning. Like he was really pleased to see us. The receptionist (Candi) practically split her mouth in half, she was smiling and saying “alrighty” so much.

Whilst Dad and Uncle Eddie sorted out the rooms, Mum said, “Aren't they all just, you know…”

I said, “Bonkers?”

Mum got all mumish, “No, aren't they all so nice? Let's have a little look at the pool.”

poolsidewise

Fabby pool all surrounded by palm trees and with miniature waterfalls and stuff. We tried out the sun lounger things. Libby gave Sandy and Scuba Diving Barbie a bit of privacy by putting them on their own special lounger.

As soon as we sat down a waitress dashed
over. Blimey, sometimes days can go by in English restaurants before some complete fool comes ambling over to take your order, and then tells you they haven't got it.

Our waitress (Loreen) was beside herself with joy at seeing us and said, “Well, howdy to you all, thank you for coming to Memphis. Can I get you ladies anything?”

Mum said, “Could I have tea for four, and perhaps a couple of ham sandwiches if that is not too much trouble?”

Loreen slapped her thigh and laughed for about a year and said, “With that cute accent you can have anything you want, ma'am.”

Mum said to Libby, “Bibs, would you like a little ham sandwich?”

Libby looked at the waitress and started snorting and grunting and pretending to be a mad piglet.

“Hoggy hoggy, piggy sandwich!”

And Loreen chuckled and said, “Now, aren't you the cutest?”

Cutest?

Libby?

Good Lord.

ten minutes later

Jas is writing a postcard to Hunky—we've only been here a minute. She has no pridenosity.

Mum started taking her jacket off. I said, “I beg you, Mum, do not alarm anyone with your nungas.”

She is in such a good mood, and obviously expecting to see George Clooney any minute, that she just smiled at me and lay back in her chair.

Jas said, “I wonder what time it is in Kiwi-a-gogo. If we are five hours back from England and New Zealand is twelve hours ahead of England, that means…erm…let me see….”

I said, “Jas, please work it out in your head and don't start talking about minutes to me. It makes my brain go jelloid.”

Once I have had a snack I will have the strength to get on the phone to the Luuurve God.

fifteen minutes later

Loreen has arrived with our “snack.” My sandwich is made out of two loaves of bread, chips, a huge gherkin and a piglet. Loreen said to Libby, who was gnawing her way through forty pounds of ham, “Is that alrighty for you, Miss Beautiful?”

Pardon?

Then, attracted by the gnawing, Cindi, a waitress with eight-foot hair came over and said, “Now you leave her alone, Loreen, she is mine.”

Then they had a bit of a mock minifight over Libby, shouting, “Now you give her here, she is miiiiine.”

Quite quite weird. We sat there chewing as Loreen and Cindi sort of pushed each other round. Finally Loreen won and she picked up Libby and gave her a cuddle. Libby didn't hit her.

I was amazed.

We were all amazed.

It was amazing, that's why.

She was cuddling my sister. My sister wasn't biffing her.

Now Loreen was kissing Sandra. Blimey.

Then some bloke passing by with twenty-five pounds of sausages on his plate stopped and joined in. “How are y'all folks doing?”

I said, “We are doing as alrighty as…er…alrighty things, thank you.”

And he said, “Hey, miss, are you from Ireland? Well, begorrah you are real pretty and you have a
sparkling personality. Now you all take care and have a nice day.”

Mum practically choked on her pig's leg.

half an hour of alrighty time later

After our “snack” we staggered to the elevator and a complete stranger in tartan slacks and matching hat said as he got out, “Now you enjoy Memphis, you hear?”

On the way up to our room I said to Jas, “What do they want from us?”

inside

Mum went off with Libby into the “family” room and Me and Jas went into our room. I heard Libby saying to Mum, “When is the kittykat plane landing, Mummmmmeeeee?”

Oh dear.

our room

Wow and wowzee wow, it was HUGE. And it had its own private bathroom! No more chance sightings of my parents in the nuddy-pants.

When we got to our room the bellhop was
putting our bags on one of the ginormous beds.

I said, “Oh, thank you very much.”

And he slapped his thigh and said, “Now where are you all from?”

I said, “Erm, we're all from England.”

And he did a little bit of a dance and said, “Say something in British.”

I looked at Jas but she was busy walking in and out of the walk-in wardrobe.

It was really making me nervy having an ogling person ogling me from about an inch away from my head. Especially one who thinks that I speak British. Anyway, I said, “Do you know if there is a bus that goes to Manhattan, please?”

And he started hooting with laugher. I was just looking at him. Eventually he managed to wipe his eyes and calm down and went cackling off out of the room.

Jas said, “Georgie, look, there is like a cupboard thing with all drinks and snacks in.”

I said, “Oh thank God!!!”

But I was being ironic because I am so full of piglet I can barely move.

We lay on our ginormous beds and made a plan.

I said, “Okay, the first thing is we phone up directory enquiries and—”

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

monday may 23rd
8:30 a.m.

What in the name of arse happened? I remember putting on the TV and Mum and Dad coming in and saying, “We are just going to have a little zizz.”

I thought, “Hahahaha, now is my chance. I will just lie on my ginormous bed and have a little rest to perk me up for my phone call to the Luuurve God.” And then it was now. If you see what I mean.

But hey hey hey, this is our Official First Morning in Hamburger-a-gogo land!

Jas was awake looking at me. In her giant sleeping knicker ensemble and giant bed. I said, “Howdy,” and she said, “Alrighty,” and I said, “Gol'darn rootin' tootin', I'm alrighty.”

And we laughed like loons in Loonland, which we are.

9:00 a.m. hamburger-timewise

Jas was looking out of our two-hundred-million-floor window and I said, “Any sign of cowboys?”

And she said, “No, but I can see some bloke doing nuddy-pants gardening on a roof.”

Wowzee wow!! I leapt out of bed and went to the window and there was Mr. Rudey Dudey Nudey on the roof of another hotel!

I said, “Boo, he's wearing tiny swimming knickers, or swimming panties, as we must say to get along with people here. I can't stop to chat with you now, Jas. I'm going to use our phone to call up Masimo in Manhattan.”

Jas said, “Good luck. Hey, I wonder if I could phone Tom in Kiwi-a-gogo.”

It was really groovy having our own phone for once.

I said to Jas, “What is the codey-type thing for Manhattan?”

Typically, Jas didn't know. I don't know what the point of coming top in history is if you don't even know the simplest thing, but I didn't say that because I am vair nearly in Luuurve Heaven City.

I phoned reception and an alarmingly cheerful person said, “Gayleen speaking, how can I help you, ma'am?”

“Oh, er, I would like to make a call to Manhattan, please.”

“You got it. Now you just wait, ma'am, while I connect you to the appropriate party.”

This was more like it. I said to Jas, “This is why I luuurve the American-type people. They DO stuff for you. Also they are very truthful—you know, like last night that bloke said I was beautiful and had a sparkling personality. That is again why I like them, because they are full of SINCERIOSITY!”

And that is when Dad answered the phone.

“Dad!”

“Oh, yes, I wondered how long it would be before you were on the phone to your mates, telling them what you are having for breakfast and what color lipstick you might wear.”

Donner and Blitzen!

And
merde
!

And also DARN!!!

Even on holiday Dad is so mad and unreasonable. He has told the hotel to put all our calls through to him!

I said to him, “What if I needed to call the emergency services?”

“I could call them.”

“But what if you had, er, fallen over your shorts and—”

“Georgia, shut up and just accept that you are not calling your mates on the hotel phone. You can use your own money in a phone box.” Then he hung up.

Sacré bleu.

The phone rang. It was Vati again.

“And don't even think about eating anything out of the room bar or using room service without my permission.”

What was this? A holiday or Stalag 14 on tour?

 

Through the Fat Controller (Dad), Me and Jas ordered the “healthy option” breakfast.

fifteen minutes later

Me and Jas are sitting in the bath watching the mini TV on the shelf by the sink. It's like on a stem thing and you can twist it around so you can watch it from any angle, even on the loo. (By the way, we were sitting in the bath not in a lezzie way, just in a in-our-jimjams way).

There was a knock at the door and our “healthy option” breakfast arrived.

I don't know whose idea of a healthy option it was, but in my book twenty-five tons of porridge, four
eggs and forty pounds of fried potatoes plus toast doesn't suggest health to me, it suggests death.

The smiling person (Dolly) who brought us the brekkie tray said, “Now you all have a nice day, you hear?”

And I didn't even say, “No, YOU all have a nice day.”