It was a scorching hot 95° F day at the beginning of July 2023 in Aurora, Colorado. Seriously 95… It was only 7AM. And they say global warming isn’t real. Anyways, my name is Randy Ringo and I work as a math teacher in the northern part of Aurora. It's a decent job, and every once in a while, I manage to teach my students something that sticks.
I am close to 6 feet tall with brown hair and hazel eyes. I also grow a beard because I am too lazy to shave every day. But I can’t stand it being very long either so I shave it once a month. I think it looks the best about a week after the initial shave, and it keeps looking good for another week. So my face looks handsome half the time. I am slightly out of shape and weigh about 200 lbs. Although with clothes on you can’t tell that I have packed on a few extra pounds.
Summer vacation started right after Memorial Day at the end of May. So a month of freedom had already flown by. Thankfully I still had nearly a month left and, as always, I wasn't even close to being ready to get back to the grind.
This morning I was driving my wife to work(she is a tiny korean woman less than 5 feet tall but very beautiful) and listening to the radio. The radio was having this contest where you could get 3 free tickets to France on United Airlines. It was a special contest because only those who made donations at specific locations were entered.
“Thanks for listening to the Dom and Jane show. We're just about to announce our grand prize winner for a trip for three to France.” My wife Amy had actually won something before on the radio, but it was only concert tickets, I didn't expect anything this time.
“Our grand prize winner is Amy Ringo. Please pick up the phone and call within 10 minutes to claim your prize. If you don't claim your prize in 10 minutes we will draw another name and you will live the rest of your life wondering what could have been.” Those were some prophetic words.
“Holy shit we won!” Amy screamed.
“...” I was in shock. Apparently, she had entered the drawing for this contest during a fundraising event at her job, a non-profit animal shelter that relies on donations to keep the doors open.
“ Hurry up and call in!” I shouted.
Amy frantically looked for her phone. “Oh crap, I think I left my phone at home!”
“Just use mine!”
“You dropped your phone in the toilet yesterday while flushing like a big dummy, and haven’t replaced it yet.” Amy reminded me.
“…” How many times can I be speechless in one chapter?
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Luckily we were pretty close to the station and because she had won a prize previously, we knew where it was. So we drove as fast as we could and ran to the back door, the employees entrance, which we saw last time we picked up our concert tickets.
The DJ fell on his ass when he saw us rushing in. Luckily, he was very understanding and we won our prize. “So you've got to be [pretty excited about winning this prize to France.”
“Well yeah, it’s bloody far away innit.” I have no idea why I started talking like I was british. As she usually does, Amy was hiding her head in shame. The radio host further exacerbated the embarrassment. “Oh so your british!” I of course went with it. “Well we were just drinkin a spot o tea at home when we eard ya say our name and tell us to ring the station.” At this point Amy is red with even more shame than usual and tells me to “shut it”. The radio host is confused as Amy does the rest of the talking, my mouth is firmly shut. We fill out some paperwork and leave the station.
Even though we had done a lot of traveling, I had never been out of the country, so I was pretty stoked. In fact we just got back from a trip.
The summer had been pretty eventful. We took trips to both Georgia and Oregon. Our trip to Atlanta, Georgia, was purely for fun, a chance to explore and enjoy ourselves. In contrast, our trip to Portland, Oregon, had a more personal purpose: visiting family and retrieving some of Amy’s childhood trophies that she had left at her mom’s house years ago.
Our first trip of the summer was in Georgia. When we arrived, we picked up a rental car from Alamo, a process that was mercifully quick. Amy, ever hopeful, asked, “Do you think we’ll get a free upgrade like last time?” She was referring to our trip to the Northeast last year when Alamo had surprised us with a free car upgrade. “That would be sweet if they did,” I replied, sharing her hope. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on our side this time, and we ended up with the standard car we’d booked.
Once we had our car, I took the wheel, as I usually do, while Amy took charge of navigation with the help of Google Maps. The traffic heading north toward the Great Smoky Mountain National Park wasn’t too bad, but the southbound lanes were a complete mess. As we approached a split in the interstate, I asked, “Yo, do I take the right or left lane?” Amy checked the map and responded, “Take the left.” A moment later, her phone chimed in, “In one mile, merge right.” Confused, I asked, “Which one is it?” Amy, still looking at the map, insisted, “Go left like I said, see the map?” “OK,” I muttered, trying to follow her directions. Then, her phone announced, “In half a mile, keep right at the fork.” I was even more confused than previously. “No, go left,” Amy reiterated. Trusting her, I veered left. Of course, as fate would have it, I was supposed to go right.
Despite that little navigational hiccup, our trip was a lot of fun. We visited the national park in Tennessee and then made our way to Dollywood, which is located in a town that’s about as touristy as they come.
The next day, we drove a few hours to North Carolina to tour the Biltmore Mansion. That place is enormous! Finally, we headed back to Atlanta to catch our flight home to Denver the following day. The whole area was surprisingly lush and green, much more so than I had expected. Coming from Oregon, I’m used to the verdant landscapes of the Pacific Northwest, so I didn’t expect anything else to compare.
Later in June, we took another trip, this time to Portland, Oregon, to pick up Amy’s Soap Box Derby and softball trophies. These trophies were huge—almost as big as Amy herself, and she’s only five feet tall in high heels! Because of their size, flying back to Denver wasn’t an option, so we decided to drive.
While we were in Portland, we had dinner with Amy’s mom and earlier had lunch with my family. The food was decent, though I have to say that the BBQ left something to be desired. On our way back to Denver, we made a couple of stops, including one at Multnomah Falls, which I highly recommend if you’re ever in the Portland area, and another at Dinosaur National Monument on the Colorado/Utah border.
After 20 hours of driving and a hotel stay in Utah, we finally made it back home. A week later, we won the radio contest.
Later that evening, when we got home, we discussed the trip. “I don’t really want to go,” Alex, our son, said when he heard the news. He was getting his career in writing started and it was going pretty well. We figured that by next summer he would have enough money saved up to move out.
“We have three free tickets and hotel accommodations, and you’re the only one we know who speaks French,” Amy said, trying to convince him. “But mom, most French people speak English,” Alex countered. At this point, I had to chime in. “Yeah, but all those French elitists pretend they don’t speak English (or so I've heard) and like to overcharge you and treat you like crap if you aren’t French. You being there will save us a lot of hassle. Your writing can take a week’s break. I’m sure your readers will understand.”
And just like that, it was settled—the Ringo family was going to France! “Now skiddaddle, your mom and I have something to discuss in the bedroom!”
