Last night was our last night without the kids, so we decided we would slip away to San Antonio for the night. Our original plan to eat dinner on the river was thwarted by the rain, so we decided to try some indoor dining in The Market. Upon leaving the restaurant, we noticed that the sidewalks all the way to the hotel were absolutely crawling with people. We also noticed that all these throngs were wearing similar name tags, but seemed to have virtually no other commonalities. There were people from literally every demographic you can think of, dressed in every way you can imagine.
When we arrived at our hotel, which happened to adjoin the convention center, we found the crowds to be even more oppressive. Finding only signs that said "The International Convention" and unable to contain our curiosity, we asked fellow elevator passengers what was going on. "Oh, we're all with Alcoholics Anonymous!" replied one lady in an overly cheerful, yet slightly secretive way. She then went on to tell us that there were about 60,000 people there for the convention at the moment, but they were expecting more the following day. And sure enough, the city was flush with convention attendees today. We scarcely saw anyone, whether shopping or dining or just walking around, not wearing the tell-tale name tag.
Once in our room, we found two double beds (rather than one king or queen, which we would have preferred, but knowing the hotel wouldn't have even a closet to spare with the madhouse of the convention going on) and each plopped down on one to watch TV for a while. Jeff fell asleep almost immediately, sprawled out over the entirety of his bed. When I finally got ready to tuck myself in, there wasn't any way I could squeeze in under the covers next to him. So, I just hopped into the other bed and made myself cozy.
It was a rather bizarre romantic get-away, but we still had a good time and were thankful for the time together. Plus, it makes a pretty good story.
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