Booked flights mean no more talking about it - we're heading for something good. Lazily I snip from Summer '06 to analogize the something instead of doing the work to spell out what it means . . .

Turning the corner from the exit ramp, Connie knew this was no let's grab a burger at Venuto's jaunt down the bypass. Dave has that smirk-like smile like when he's ready to do naughty and besides, Venuto's stopped being the burger-go-to place long ago. As they headed east, Connie saw the imposing tower of the new Red Mountain Resort cutting into the horizon and for a moment, she paused waiting for Dave to say something. His flip of the turn signal made her blurt out, "Are you taking me to Red Mountain?" and Dave nodded yes. The long driveway took them to the area looking more like the auto mall than a resort. Connie ran through her memory of the restaurants inside this new jewel of a destination and asked Dave if he was still thinking burger. At this point, Dave flipped open the trunk lid and pulled out the memory-evoking green duffel bag and Connie asked, "Are we spending the night?" Again, Dave just nodded yes. The walk to the entrance dragging the green monster on its tiny wheels brought back some unforgettable rendezvous memories when getting outta Dodge weekends were the vogue. Connie grinned picturing Dave dragging the bag loaded full of Cook's Asti to moderate the short breaks in between the non-stop passion that always trademarked these trysts. Neither were prepared for what happen as they emerged from the gigantic revolving door at the entrance. Instead of a lobby, the crackle of leaves under their feet clued them that they were walking on earth, as in dirt earth. They looked back and the entrance was gone and the startled look on their faces roared out WTF? They were walking in the woods behind the house where Dave grew up. Connie broke the silence by pleading, "Dave, where are we?" Dave answered, "Wanna watch me pee?" Dave's face was still the same as when they woke up that morning but his body was like a kindergartner and Connie has become a little girl. "Dave, this isn't funny," Connie blurted. "C'mon - let's walk up this path," Dave offered. As they reached the crest and broke through the brush with their arms, they entered a class room and sat down on the first row putting their books on the arm on the right. A guy walked in with a briefcase and said, "I'm Dave Powell, is everyone here for English Comp?" Connie whispered to Dave, "I'm scared, where are we? can't we go back to the Red Mountain?" Dave shushed her and waited for the break to grab her hand and walk out the door. This time they entered a dingy, smoke filled bar aptly named Smoky Joe's where students mingled to get a little juiced. Dave looked at Connie and said, "This is my surprise, babe, I made it possible for you to go back and be in my life before I became a man so you could see with your eyes what impressions are still left in my psyche that come out to entertain you, baffle you sometimes and even piss you off." Connie said, "Dave, listen to me - this may have been a good idea in your mind but right now all I want to do is get back to where we live and maybe this fear in my belly will subside." Dave again took Connie's hand and guided her up this dank, smelly staircase where, at the top, a familiar flamingo greeted them and they at once were on the dance floor twirling and holding on to each other like there was no tomorrow. The sound of the toaster awakened Connie and after blinking her eyes, she realized she just had the kind of dream that retells beautifully while sipping that hot morning coffee