The Hangover: Part III

FRIDAY

It was about eight-thirty in the morning when Phil and Stu arrived together in Phil's Ford Explorer. He found a place to park in one of the parking ramps. He then turned the ignition off and hopped out, shutting the door as Stu did the same. They walked to the back of the vehicle and pulled their suitcases out. Phil had a simple over the shoulder number that was packed light and he could take with him on the plane as a carry-on. Stu had packed a little heavier for God knows what reason and was pulling a rolling suitcase behind him as they walked toward the Delta terminal.

The night before, Phil hadn't stayed much longer at the Garner home once Alan insisted on paying for the trip for everyone. After the hugs, they decided to leave the next morning if it was okay with Tracy and Lauren to let their respective husbands go and play for a few days. Apprehensive at first, Tracy finally gave in after a solid twenty minutes of convincing her this time would be different, that Alan felt horrible about the previous two times and was going to do everything in his power to do the right thing. Doug and Phil insisted they would keep a better eye on him, just in case. When Doug got the go ahead, he called Stu who had gone home after the one drink and the last half of the Dodgers game at Phil's house. He brought it up to Lauren who thought it was fine, feeling as if it she was still somehow responsible for Stephanie leaving Phil for her cousin Ting Deng. Stu had then called back to say he got the go-ahead and the plans were set in motion.

Once Phil had arrived home, leaving Doug to return to his own home with Tracy and Sarah, he called up Alan to say everyone was available for the weekend. More "conference" calling went on until just after midnight where Phil confirmed with all of them they would meet at LAX by nine in the morning so they could catch an early enough flight to wherever it was they would be going and the entire day wouldn't be wasted in travel.

"I can't believe we didn't settle on a destination beforehand," Stu muttered as they stepped into the airport, waiting for Doug to arrive with Alan. "More importantly, I'm surprised Lauren didn't mind me picking up and leaving for a few days."

"She's cool like that. You got yourself a good one, Stu."

Stu smiled happily, with a small nod of his head. "Yeah, I lucked out."

Phil was slightly distracted, looking over several heads to see if the other two had shown up yet. "How did you get out of work, by the way?"

"It's my practice. I just called my receptionist bright and early and told her I had an aunt who died suddenly last night and I had to go out of town for the funeral for a few days. I told her to reschedule any appointments for today and Monday for another time next week and for any dental emergencies to be given to a colleague of mine who owns his own practice off Laurel Canyon Boulevard."

"Is that the guy who almost lost his medical license for feeling up a patient who was under general anaesthesia?"

"No, that was Dr. Bob and Dr. Bob did in fact lose his license after a civil suit was brought against him," Stu replied nonchalantly. "He sells cars now somewhere in Studio City. I was referring to another dentist, Dr. Adam Howarth."

"Yeah, no offense, but I'm already bored now." Phil, blunt as ever. And not that he really cared either. He'd only gotten about four hours of sleep, heading to bed around one in the morning only to wake up slightly after five. He had woken up, showered, changed and packed what little he was bringing. He then had to pick Stu up and drive through morning rush hour traffic to get to the airport. He was tired and his eyes showed it.

Stu just frowned and turned slightly. "Well, you asked."

"Not for your life story, man." He then changed the subject. "Remind me to buy a few of those 5-Hour Energy drinks before we get on the plane." He widened his eyes and blinked several times in a matter of seconds to wake himself up a bit more. "The coffee I had at home and the second one on the way here just isn't cutting it."

After about ten more minutes, Doug and Alan could finally be found walking in from outside. Doug was packed as light as Phil and dressed as comfortably as Phil and Stu. Doug and Stu both wore a pair of khaki colored chinos, but Doug wore a gray T-shirt with the Dodgers logo over the chestplate whereas Stu wore a plaid, buttoned up short sleeve shirt. Very Stu. Phil was probably the most comfortable in a pair of relaxed fit jeans and also a T-shirt; his was light blue and the shirt read in small white letters: I COULD USE A LITTLE SEXUAL HARASSMENT.

Alan, on the other hand, was a whole other story. His head held high as he walked, he was wearing a three-piece suit with a white dress shirt, a maroon ascot and a black fedora on his head. For his luggage, he had a rolling suitcase like Stu and for whatever reason he held a briefcase in his free hand.

"Phil, Stu. Beautiful morning, isn't it?" Alan greeted.

"Indeed it is, Alan," Phil agreed with a smirk.

"So, have we decided where we're going?" Doug inquired, looking at the ticket counters. "Phil?"

"Actually, I was thinking of leaving the decision up to Alan." Phil stepped up to Alan and placed a hand on his back while looking at the other two. "He's been so generous to treat us to this, I think it's only right he picks the destination."

"Oh, God," Stu rolled his eyes.

"Really, Phil, do you mean it?"

"Yup," nodded Phil. "Just...keep it within the forty-eight continental states, alright?"

Alan all but squealed, gazing up at Phil with the admiration a little brother had for his big brother. "This is better than the time I found a dollar bill and an upopened bag of Skittles in a dumpster."

Stu narrowed his eyes and just stared at Alan. "What were you doing in a dumpster to begin with?"

Alan looked back. "Looking for awesome treasure." The others chalked it up to another Alan-ism, when he also added, "You know, one man's trash is another man's treasure."

"But a dumpster is so...unsanitary."

"Tomato, potato."

"I think you mean tomato, to-mah-to or potato, po-tah-to," Phil corrected.

"No," Alan answered, very sure of himself. "It's tomato, potato."

Phil was going to say something again, but Doug just held his hand up and shook his head, mouthing something to the affect of not bothering. "Alright then, Alan," Phil decided to change the subject back to their destination. "Where do you want to take us for three days and three nights?"

Alan fell silent, considering all the options he had from the Pacific to the Atlantic. Slowly, the perfect destination came to mind and he began to grin, looking between Phil, Stu and Doug.



About an hour and a half later, the guys boarded a nonstop Delta flight out of LAX which lasted five hours and forty minutes. The plane touched down onto tarmac and the guys began to stir. They were each sitting in First Class seats Alan had sprung for, insisting he would spare no expense. Stu pointed out at the ticket counter that it wasn't really his money, but his father's, to which Alan had laughed off, saying the credit card he paid with was his "executive expense card" he got for being a stay-at-home son.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we'd like to welcome you to New York City. The current time is six thirty-seven, the current temperature here at the airport is seventy-nine degrees," a lovely flight attendant announced from the front of the plane. She was probably in her mid twenties and had been occassionally catching the eye of Phil, who she had made an extra effort in making sure was comfortable all during the flight because of those beautiful blue eyes and smile of his. "As you exit the plane, make sure to gather all of your belongings. Anything left behind will be distributed evenly among the flight attendants. Please do not leave children or spouses. Also, we'd like to thank you folks for flying with us today. And, the next time you get the insane urge to go blasting through the skies in a pressurized metal tube, we hope you'll think of Delta Airlines."

The guys looked around at each other, smiling and chuckling at the flight attendant's good humor as they got out of their seats and grabbed their belongings from the overhead compartments. They exited the plane with the same flight attendant shaking Phil's hand goodbye and giving him a wink. As they made their way through the jetway that connected the gate to the plane, Phil looked down at the hand that did the shaking to find a balled up piece of paper. He opened it, finding the flight attendant's name and number written on it. Phil smirked and pocketed the paper as they stepped out of their gate.

Five minutes later, they made it down to the baggage claim where Alan and Stu were able to get their suitcases. The next fifteen minutes, however, would be spent trying to find a taxi to take them all to a hotel. And what hotel that would be was unknown. It was in Alan's hands, which had Stu and Doug a little nervous, but Phil didn't seem to mind. He just enjoyed the excitement of not knowing what was going to happen next.

After finally hailing a taxi and throwing their shit into the trunk, Stu, Phil and Doug clamored into the backseat while Alan had to sit up front with the driver. The three in the back smiled at each other while Alan struck up random conversation with the driver, who was clearly of the stereotypical Indian heritage, asking such questions as how long he'd been a cabbie, if he liked humus and if he always wore that turban. Stu facepalmed himself a few times, while Doug and Phil seemed enthralled by the Manhattan skyline coming into view as the taxi drove over the Queensboro Bridge.

"Alan, where did you tell the driver to take us?" Stu asked, quite clueless and his stomach growling. It was already seven-thirty and he just wanted to check into a decent hotel, take a quick shower and find somewhere with something to eat. He'd settle for a vendor selling hot dogs on the side of the road.

"You'll see," Alan replied covertly.

Less than five minutes later, they turned onto 5th Avenue, only one block from Central Park, and pulled up in front of the famed Plaza Hotel. Phil, Doug and Stu immediately turned their attentions upon the building with disbelief and excitement mixed in their eyes.

"Fuckin' sweet," Phil cooed, the first to hop out as he craned his neck upward to take everything in.

After the others piled out and grabbed their luggage, Doug paid the cab fare plus tip, insisting against Alan's continued claims that this was all his treat, to which Doug said paying for the flights and hotel stay was more than enough of a treat and he didn't have to waste his money any further. The doorman opened the door for them and they stepped inside, automatically caught up in its splendor. Alan walked side by side with Phil as they headed to the front desk to book their room.

"Hello, and welcome to the Plaza Hotel," the female desk clerk greeted. "Do you have a reservation?"

Alan brought his briefcase up to set on the counter. He clicked it open and pulled out his wallet. "It's under the name Alan Garner." He removed his credit card and passed it to the woman.

Phil peered briefly into the briefcase and couldn't help but chuckle a little under his breath. He took a step back so Alan couldn't see him gesturing and mouthing to Doug and Phil that Alan had a few bags of Skittles inside the briefcase.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Garner. We have you and your friends booked for three nights in the Royal Plaza Suite." The desk clerk clicked at the keys of the computer's keyboard a few more times.

"The Royal Plaza Suite?" Stu repeated. "That sounds expensive."

"It's our best and largest suite available."

"What's included in the suite, if I may ask?" Phil spoke up.

"It has three bedrooms, three baths, and it's located in a private area of the hotel with an array of magificent views. There's a living room featuring a grand piano, dining room which seats up to twelve people, a kitchen in which you could retain the services of a personal chef for during your stay. Also, there is a private gym with state-of-the-art equipment, high speed internet access, flat screen TVs and a private elevator." She smirked at the way they all seemed to appear as deer caught in the headlights, save for Alan who had known all this ahead of time.

"Fuck me blind," Phil brusquely commented.

"You're check-out time will be on Monday at noon." She continued, sliding four card keys onto the counter, one for each guy. "Here are the keys to your suite. Will you be needing the butler service or any dinner reservations?"

Doug shook his head, still in disbelief. "Nah, I think we're just gonna take a while to let it all soak in and then find a little place to eat. We're a little jet lagged and need to walk around for a bit."

"Alright then. Enjoy your stay."

Alan took his credit card back once the desk clerk had added his information down. He returned it to his wallet and then closed it inside his briefcase, picking it up and grabbing one of the four card keys. The other three did the same as they headed toward the direction of the elevators; namely, their private one.

"How in the hell were you able to book the best suite the hotel has to offer, the day of?" Stu wondered, staggering forward as he glanced at everything around him. He was a little bit in shock.

Alan just chuckled as if he knew something naughty. "Let's just say the owner owed my dad a favor."

"Tell your dad I am eternally grateful," Phil muttered, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "This is definitely what I needed."

"And we aren't even inside the suite yet," Doug reminded.

"I can only imagine," Phil spoke, his eyes sparkling with life.