I am having flashbacks. Not the kind you have from hallucinogenic drugs, but the kind you have from memories of the past that were stored in some location in your brain that you were completely unaware of.

Ever since I arrived at the hotel former escapades have been coming back in pieces. My last trip here with Tam was a bit wilder than I had allowed myself to recall. Of course everything with Tam is an adventure – EVERYTHING. There are few places I can look at or things I can do in this area without thinking of the mischief we got into six years ago. Thank heaven for the flashbacks, they have saved me from repeating a few mistakes.

At any rate I am flashing back and it is amazing the things I had conveniently tucked away. Now, this is not to say that I did not know I had this skill of selective amnesia. I am half Catholic/half Jewish – twice the guilt – I have to be able to do some significant blocking or I would be mired in guilt in perpetuity. I have completely blocked whole sections of my life with ex-husbands which is the only thing that has allowed me to marry again with optimism. I also have blocked some of the details of my more embarrassing and horrifying moments to protect my ever fragile psyche. Yep, I am an old school blocker, but I don’t know how or why I came to displace my Florida memories.

Memories are important. Sometimes they are a comfort. Sometimes they are a reminder of the good times. Sometimes they can help you from repeating mistakes…or not. Case in point, I encouraged my colleagues to take the Orlando trolley to the outlet mall. My memories were quite fresh in this area as last time Tam and I were all but thrown off the trolley (you can see Tam’s account of this event at http://2bethirtysomething.blogspot.com/2009/10/trapped-on-trolley.html).

Alas, I was hopeful that my previous experience with the trolley and the drivers’ break schedules were an anomaly. Not so…history repeats itself. Fortunately, not in the abrupt way it had when Tam was here – we were not put off the trolley. No…this time we just experienced the trolley driver break schedule (so basically we were not let on the trolley for an extended period of time).  Here’s the deal, the drivers take breaks every so often, but they take them at either the beginning or end of the route (both of which begin and end at outlet malls where folks are eager to get home after some hard core power shopping). This is not a problem in-and-of-itself. The problem lies in the fact that they take their breaks in plain view and only a short distance away from the tired folks waiting to take the $#%^&@#! trolley (I apologize for the profanity but it was absolutely necessary).

This tries my patience and defies my imagination. What company is foolish enough to tell their drivers to take their breaks so close to weary patrons waiting a half hour or more for the trolley to come?  It has to be a PR nightmare.  I complained about this the last time I was here and clearly they ignored my concerns. The last time I got the company on the phone and shared my very irate thoughts at great length. This time I filled out a comment card (and let me say the four tiny lines were not really enough for me to fully express my angst).

What I really wanted to do was to go march over to that trolley sitting all of a dozen steps away and give that driver a piece of my mind (albeit there isn’t too much left of it to be given away), but given my past memories of being put off the trolley I thought better of it.

Thank goodness for the memories that are retained somewhere in the deep recesses of one’s mind – they serve a purpose and while we were waiting for the $#%^&@#! Trolley driver to get off his break I told the story of the last time I spent time in Orlando and interacted with the trolley company. You know what they say, "If you can’t be a good example, then you’ll just have to serve as a horrible warning."  I do what I can.

Day one hundred and twenty of the new forty – obla di obla da

CC