It’s kind of a funny story…

It’ kind of a funny story…

only it’s not

On behalf of CBS, the hubs and I went to city of Ventura for a wine trail tour gig. On Saturday we had a six-hour tour on a shuttle bus that carted us around to 4 different wineries in Oxnard, Camarillo and Ojai.

On the tour with us was a party of 6 bachelorette donning white pants and lots of pink. The bride to be wore a hot pink feather boa and snow-beast veil. When they got on the bus my husband elbowed me in the gut. I foresaw a lot of squealing and “oh. my. gawds!”
Shortly after the wine trail tour began one of the bachelorette girls started feeling car sick. So she sat in the front seat next to Alex-the driver. I kept a keen eye on that girl. I made sure she had bottled water. You may think this was nice and altruistic of me but it wasn’t really, I figured if she was going to barf. Then I was going to barf.

I was just looking out for myself.

On the way from Camarillo to Ojai to our last winery stop on the 101 freeway while driving 80 miles per hour the shuttle bus door flew the f*ck open. It flew the f*ck open. ON THE FREEWAY.
I was sitting the closest to the door and I pointed and screamed like a little girl. I was sure we were all going to be sucked out of that shuttle like an airplane.
Everyone else apparently didn’t see the door flew the f*ck open, either that or they weren’t concerned of dying like I was.

“I’ve got two kids to live for!” I shouted.

They laughed at me and my husband told me to slow down on the wine. Whatever I thought-we almost died on the 101 for Cheese sake!

While loading on the shuttle bus after our last stop in Ojai the shuttle wouldn’t start. When it did, it blew out black smoke.
Next thing we know we’re driving 20 miles per hour on the highway 33 and cars are honking and passing us. I look around and no one seems to notice and/or care. After about 15 minutes of driving 20 miles per hour I decided to speak up: “Hey Alex” I say, “is there something wrong with the bus?” Alex replies that somethings wrong with the gas pedal, when he pushes it the shuttle doesn’t go faster and he doesn’t understand since he thought he just filled the bus up with gas before our trip.

Next thing I know we’re pulled over on a blind curve in the middle of Ojai on the 33. Right next to us is a junkyard, down the street is a garage sale and across the street is some kind of exotic animal farm.

Alex can’t figure out what the f*ck to do. He’s trying to open the shuttle bus door but it won’t open, he tried to turn the AC up but it won’t work.

My hubs looks over his shoulder and says “Alex, your battery is dead”.

Alex gets out of the car and leaves us to ourselves. In the middle of Ojai.

I tell the carsick girl to open her window so she doesn’t barf. I figure, if she barfs. We all barf. On a broken shuttle bus with no AC in the middle of Ojai.

Then we decide to get out. Cause it’s hot in Ojai. Like, really hot.
We all slide out the car sick girls door. We stand there in the dirt on the side of the road in the middle of Ojai.

This is when my opinion about the tipsy, semi-obnoxious bachelorette party girls changed.
Those girls worked it and started stopping cars driving by.
They stuck out their thumbs, they wagged their asses and they created a traffic jam.
Those girls found a truck with jumper cables that pulled onto the side of the road in the middle of Ojai and jumped our shuttle bus.
We cheered. We hollered. We were saved.

We drove back to Ventura, exited the bus and didn’t look back.