I awoke at 4:30am and stealthily dressed in the dark to ensure I did not wake my sleeping hubby. I tiptoed down the stairs and into the awaiting sedan, whereupon I was whisked off to the airport to catch my 6am flight to Phoenix. San Jose International Airport (SJC) at 5am does not hold quite the allure of Heathrow or Charles de Gaules or frankly even O’Hare.
The word International is quite misleading as the only border crossing flights to arrive at SJC are from Mexico. Understandably there are no Duty Free shops, no exotic Malaysian flight attendants scurrying about, no fabulously sophisticated European men in Lacoste polos and dark wash denim with handmade Italian leather shoes and no socks. In effect the only thing that is truly international about SJC are the janitors and food service workers. So after ordering my Venti Earl Grey tea and buying the latest edition of W magazine (sadly thin due to the slow return of the advertising business) I boarded my flight somewhat somberly.
I had paid US Airways an additional $10 for the privilege of occupying seat 5F and was praying to have a mute or at least seriously anti-social neighbor. Alas, a young Indian man, who to my surprise turned out not to be an IAT graduated engineer, sat next to me and after a brief hello had the good sense to occupy himself with his iPhone. As I would later learn on the flight, Frida Pinto is not even a top 100 heroine (what they call female movie stars) to the knowledgeable Bollywood loyalist. She’s essentially the Sandra Bullock of India, mediocre looks, mediocre talent, but somehow a bankable sensation. I took an immediate liking to my new friend; his cynicism was delicious so early in the morning.
By the time we landed we had exchanged fav iPhone apps, I shared Dragon Dictation and he shared Google Voice Search (I felt it best to withold the fact that I was already a fan of the product), and we parted without ever shaking hands or exchanging names. So refreshing to meet a stranger and then bid one another farewell without any pretense of wanting to keep in touch or meet again.
My driver met me straight away and whisked me off after handing me a bottle of water dripping with melted ice water from his cooler. It was a two and a half hour drive to Tucson and what I imagined would no doubt be my triumphant return to Canyon Ranch. I loaded up my laptop with the classic film “So I Married An Axe Murdered”, and sat back to enjoy the ride. When we were 30 minutes from our destination, I asked the driver if he wouldn’t mind stopping at a Circle K quick stop so that I could pick up some essentials before reaching the Ranch. I hopped out and made fast for the large refrigerators at the back of the shop in search of two things that are strictly contraband at the Ranch but without which any stay would be far too painful to bear; Coke Zero and Chardonnay.
I found the Coke Zero immediately and loaded up a dozen small bottles with twist tops, they may cost more but it tastes so much better than out of the can. Then I explored the wine selection and this is where dear reader I learned a very important and surprising lesson; namely that there are California Chardonnays which retail for less than $5. It was shocking to see that the Tropicana was more expensive than the Glen Ellen or the Beringer, see pic. Needless to say, it took me a while to locate the most expensive bottle in the shop, a lovely $13.99 Beringer that I am optimistically thinking may contain the very same wine that sells for $45 at my local Safeway.
I also had the good sense to remember to buy a corkscrew to avoid the need for shoving the cork into the bottle with a knife, which is what I have had to resort to on prior visits. I checked in, moving through the process with a graciousness and command that the newbie in the abutting check in lounge chair would no doubt have found enviable. “Oh, I love the new photos, so charming,” to which Cynthia nodded in agreement as she handed me my new Ranch t-shirt. "Great new design," I smiled. In my room, strategically placed midway between the Spa and the Dining Room, I caught up on my This Week at the Ranch reading and headed off for my 6pm 100 minute Thai Massage.
I smiled as I walked straight past the Spa reception desk and confidently strode into the Women’s Locker Room, where I politely announced to the ponytailed attendant that I would like my locker for the week please. To this she replied, “If you’d like to check in at Spa Reception, they can assign you a locker and then I’ll be happy to open it for you and show you how it works.” Classic Rookie mistake, I was devastated, ashamed and defeated. I skulked back out and asked Maria at Reception if I might have a locker. She assigned me Locker 124, to which I said, "Thank you." Then adding for clarification, "Is it a top or a bottom?" She looked at me apologetically, “I’m afraid we have no more tops, but if you’d like to check back tomorrow, it looks like 187 may be available after 10am.” Was it a bad dream? Was it some kind of cosmic joke? I couldn’t be sure but decided to soldier on.
Jenny greeted me in the relaxation room, calling out for “Loma Borenstein”. I didn’t have the heart to correct her and tried to imagine what my life would be like were I in fact named Loma. Once in the treatment room she inquired whether I had enjoyed Thai massage before, to which I simply replied, “yes.” Jenny probed further, as to whether I had enjoyed it here at the Ranch before, to which I once again replied, “yes.” Jenny then asked how many times I had been to the Ranch, to which I replied simply, “four.” Jenny then said the kindest thing to me I’d heard all day, “Oh, Loma you are a real regular.” Yes Jenny, blessed sinewy, spritely Jenny, Loma is a regular here at the Ranch.
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