Sitting side-by-side on the plane, my then-nine-year-old son and I flashed smiles at each other, and then squished towards the window to watch the land fall further and further from our view. We were off on our first-ever mother-son trip, and it was going to be epic.
The plan was to land in Phoenix, pick up our pre-booked rental car, and then head south, exploring castles, caves, and cowboy adventures along the way during our weeklong jaunt. Little did I know, the trip almost didn’t happen, thanks to my trip up upon arrival.
We arrived in Phoenix in the early evening, and had planned on stopping for supper during our two-hour drive to our first destination: White Stallion Ranch in Tucson, Arizona. Laughing and chatting excitedly about our plans, my son and I stumbled up to the car rental desk, and dropped our bags as a customer service rep welcomed us warmly and waited eagerly to fetch our rental so we could be on our way.
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“Reservation number?” he asked, and I slid a neatly-typed itinerary across the counter and into his view. “Ok great, we have you down for a nice economy car, does that work?” he continued. “Sounds good to me!” I responded enthusiastically. “Alrighty then, I just need your credit card and driver’s license, and then we’ll have you two on your way,” he said.
As I passed him my cards, I asked my son if he was hungry yet, and if he had any requests for a dinner stop. “Can we try to find an In-N-Out Burger? I’ve always wanted to try that place!” my son proclaimed loudly, and as I laughed at his obvious burger choice, the customer service rep called my name formally, in a less cheerful tone. “Mrs. Bujan, unfortunately I can’t rent you a car at this time, my apologies.”
Dumbfounded, my mouth dropped and my eyes widened. Was this some kind of joke? Was I on some stupid prank show? I stared at him blankly, speechless. “ I’m sorry ma’am, it looks like your driver’s license is expired, and has been expired for… the last 3 months,” he said slowly while studying the fine print on my card, grasped loosely between his thumb and middle finger. He looked up me and shrugged his shoulders as if there was nothing left to say, and then looked beyond me to the next person in line.
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I could feel a lump in my throat, and my heart started racing as panic started to set in. This trip (also a work press trip for a story I was doing) HAD to happen. Stay calm, the boy’s watching, I thought to myself. Don’t swear, don’t freak out.
In a haze, I thanked him and stepped aside so the next customer in line could have a turn. My son and I dragged our bags to the nearest bench, and I went to work on my phone as my son quietly mumbled, “Do we have to go back home mom? What’s going on?” I could see that he was holding back tears, and I did everything I could to do the same.
First, I called ICBC. They explained that I could expedite the renewal of my driver’s license, but in order to do so, I’d have to either visit an office in person, or fax the necessary paperwork and receive a temporary paper version – but that they could only send it to me by mail, and only to a BC address.
I looked up the cost to take an Uber to our first stop. $350, ouch. Then what? Since it was supposed to be a road trip with multiple pre-planned stops, a shuttle, Uber, or taxi would only get us to our first destination. We were stuck at the Phoenix airport. I didn’t know what to do next. I ran through every possible solution in my head – I even contemplated stopping a police officer, thinking maybe he could force the customer service rep to make an exception, or somehow help me find another way to gain a last-minute, temporary license.
Out of options, I hung my head in shame, and sheepishly called my destination contact who had set up our trip. It was my last resort. By then it was past her office hours, and I was horrified to be calling her on her cell phone at dinner time. She reassured me, remained calm, and told me to stay by my phone and she’d call me back ASAP.
My son and I shuffled to the nearest airport vendor, and had doughnuts for dinner while we waited to hear back. We sat in silence, unsure if our first mother-son trip was about to come to a screeching halt.
My destination contact was absolutely amazing and saved the day. She managed to book a town car, with a personal driver who picked us up from the airport within minutes. He drove us the full two hours to Tucson. He came back to get us a couple of days later to take us to all of the other stops on our road trip, and even joined us for meals along the way.
While we felt a bit awkward popping into small town cafes with what looked like a suited-up body guard, we made a new friend, and our epic road trip was saved thanks to some amazing people. I shared about our road tripping adventures in this story for WestCoast Families magazine, but what I didn’t share, was that I wasn’t the one driving.
For more of my travel stories, check out my work.
