St. Augustine FL Pt 2

Day Two: Gas Station Police, KFC Fugitives & Champagne Taste

October 14, 2026 | Tallahassee → Orlando, Florida

There's something truly magical about waking up in a hotel room after a long night of traveling. The comfortable bed, the soft pillows, the opportunity to sleep in and enjoy a peaceful morning. Unfortunately, we experienced absolutely none of those things.

If you remember from Day One, we finally made it to our hotel in Tallahassee at approximately 2:00 AM, after nine hours of driving, one murder documentary, and an unexpected tour of Florida State University's campus.

Well, at 6:00 AM, the alarm went off. FOUR. HOURS. LATER.

I'm not sure four hours of sleep technically qualifies as rest. I think that's more along the lines of a medically supervised nap. But we had places to go, roller coasters to ride, and questionable decisions to make! So we packed up, said goodbye to our temporary accommodations at Florida State University, and headed toward Orlando.

Our first stop? A run-in with the law. Well, sort of. We needed gas, so I pulled into a Sam's Club fuel station. It was early, and I was literally the only vehicle in the entire place. Not one other car. Not a single person waiting. Just me, an empty gas station, and the sweet promise of discounted fuel. Apparently, I had committed a serious offense. I entered the pumps from the wrong direction. And somewhere across the parking lot, a man began yelling at me. Now, here's the funny part. This wasn't the gas station attendant. This wasn't the manager. This wasn't even someone working near the pumps. It was the guy emptying the trash cans.

From what seemed like 47 miles away, this gentleman decided to make it his personal mission to inform me that I had violated the sacred directional flow of the Sam's Club fueling experience. Jessica, understandably confused, looked around and asked, "Who is this guy yelling at?" Apparently, your husband, sweetheart. Apparently, your husband.

I politely responded, "Sure, no problem. It won't happen again." And I meant every word. Because there's approximately a zero percent chance I'll ever return to that particular Sam's Club gas station.

Crisis averted. Gas purchased. Civilization restored. We continued toward Orlando.

Of course, Jessica's previously self diagnosed case of Passenger Princess Car Narcolepsy was still very much active. She spent the drive drifting in and out of consciousness, occasionally waking up just long enough to remind me that traveling is apparently exhausting. In her own words, "The struggle is real, y'all!"

Yes, sweetheart. I can only imagine.

Meanwhile, I'm over here driving on four hours of sleep, trying to remember whether my name. But before we could experience the magic of Universal Studios, we had one more emergency to address.

As we approached Orlando, Jessica announced that she needed to use the bathroom. And not in the casual, "I'll just wait until we get to the theme park" kind of way. No, this was an immediate-action situation. So naturally, we pulled into a KFC.

Nothing says "vacation romance" quite like an emergency bathroom stop at Kentucky Fried Chicken. She decideded to grab a drink and some fries while we were there, because apparently that's what civilized people do after commandeering a restaurant's restroom facilities.

Jessica headed to the bathroom. I ordered her fries and then I headed to the bathroom. And that's when things went terribly wrong. I knew something was off because the hand soap dispenser kept randomly spitting out soap over and over. I'll spare you the graphic details, but let's just say that the plumbing in my particular stall was not cooperating with the mission.

The toilet. Would. Not. Flush.

Now, I'm a reasonably responsible adult. I've faced challenges in my life. I've dealt with difficult situations. I've even survived nine hours in a vehicle with a wife who occasionally wakes up and accuses me of murder. But there are some battles you simply cannot win.

So I did what any courageous, honorable man would do. I texted my wife. "Blackhawk isn't going down. We have to leave now."

There was no time for explanations. She knows the code. Just two people, a pending order of fries, and an urgent need to evacuate the premises before anyone discovered the situation. Operation get out asap was officially underway.

And somewhere in Orlando, there's a KFC employee who may still be wondering what happened that morning…To that person, I offer my sincerest apologies.

Moving on.

By the time we arrived at Universal Orlando, the Florida sunshine was shining, the weather was beautiful, and we were running on approximately four hours of sleep and an increasingly concerning amount of caffeine.

In other words, we were ready for a FULL DAY of fun! And let me tell you, we did not waste a minute.

We conquered the Hulk, Spider-Man, King Kong, Jurassic Park, Transformers, Men in Black, The Mummy, Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey, Escape from Gringotts, and just about everything else we could squeeze into one day. At some point, I think we stopped being tourists and started treating the park like an endurance competition.

My personal favorite was the Jurassic World VelociCoaster.

If you've never experienced this thing, imagine someone strapping you into a rocket, launching you at ridiculous speeds, flipping you upside down, twisting you in every possible direction, and occasionally reminding you that dinosaurs once ruled the earth.

It's incredible. And I absolutely love it.

Jessica, on the other hand, had a different favorite. Hagrid's Magical Creatures Motorbike Adventure.

And this particular ride may have changed the course of our marriage forever. You see, on Hagrid's ride, one person gets to sit on a motorcycle while the other rides in the sidecar. Now, I've always thought owning a motorcycle would be pretty awesome. Jessica, however, has not always shared my enthusiasm for the idea. So, being the brilliant husband that I am, I encouraged her to take the motorcycle seat. My reasoning was simple. If I could get her to experience the excitement of riding a motorcycle, maybe she'd finally understand why I wanted one.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce... THE PLAN WORKED.

After the ride, my beautiful bride actually gave me the green light to buy a motorcycle!

Some husbands take their wives to expensive dinners to earn brownie points. Apparently, all I needed was a fictional wizard, a magical motorcycle, and a theme park in Orlando. Best. Investment. Ever.

Of course, the day wasn't without a little marital competition.

We also took on the Minions blaster game, which is basically an opportunity for grown adults to shoot CGI targets while pretending they're accomplishing something important. And apparently, Jessica would like the entire internet to know that... SHE KICKED MY BUTT.

There. It's officially documented. It's on the internet. It will live forever. I hope you're happy, sweetheart.

Personally, I think we should consider whether the fact that she was more awake than she'd been for the entire drive might constitute an unfair competitive advantage. But I'll let the readers decide.

One unexpected highlight of our day was the atmosphere surrounding Universal's Halloween Horror Nights. The park was gearing up for the spooky season, and the people-watching was absolutely spectacular. We saw creepy monsters, ghosts, horror characters, and grown adults wearing costumes that required an impressive level of commitment to the Halloween experience.

And then there were the outfits. Y'all. Some of these people were walking around wearing things that made me want to ask, "Does your mother know you left the house dressed like that?" Only to turn around and see their mothers wearing something even more shocking… the confidence that some of these people is wild and the tinsel strength of a single strand of fabric is impressive.

At some point, I decided it was probably best to stop asking questions and just enjoy the roller coasters.

After a full day of being launched, twisted, flipped, terrified, and occasionally humiliated by my wife in a cartoon blaster competition, it was finally time for dinner. We headed to Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. And let me tell you something. We DESTROYED some shrimp and fries. There was no elegant dining experience. No delicate conversations about the subtle flavors of the seafood. Just two exhausted people attacking their dinner like they hadn't eaten in three business days.

Were we tired? Absolutely. Were we operating on enough caffeine to power a small village? Probably. But we were having the time of our lives. And there was one more stop to make.

Now, if you've followed our adventures for a while, you might remember that Jessica and I spent part of our honeymoon at the Ritz-Carlton in Orlando. And to this day, it remains our absolute favorite hotel.

Everything about this place is incredible. The smell when you walk through the lobby. The beautiful rooms. The amenities. The staff who somehow make you feel like you're the most important person to ever walk through their doors. There's just something special about it.

And Jessica knew exactly where we were staying that night. Honestly, I'm pretty sure she was looking forward to returning to the Ritz-Carlton more than anything else on the trip. After a long day of driving, theme parks, and questionable bathroom incidents, we finally walked through those familiar doors.

Jessica took it all in. That beautiful lobby. That unmistakable smell. That feeling of being somewhere special. And then she said three little words. "I'm home."

Now, gentlemen, I need you to understand something. I love this woman with every fiber of my being. I would go just about anywhere and do just about anything to see her smile. But when your wife walks into the RITZ-CARLTON and announces that she's home...

Well, let's just say that homeownership has apparently taken on an entirely new meaning. Most people feel at home in a cozy little house with a comfortable couch and a familiar kitchen. My wife feels at home in a five-star luxury resort. And the problem isn't that she loves the Ritz-Carlton. The problem is that I love seeing how happy she is at the Ritz-Carlton. Which means I am now financially invested in maintaining a lifestyle that my bank account may not have originally agreed to.

This was our second stay here. And something tells me it won't be our last. But you know what? Walking into that hotel brought back some pretty wonderful memories. We were here on our honeymoon, celebrating the beginning of our marriage and all the adventures that were still ahead of us.

And now, here we were again. A little farther into our story. A few more miles on the odometer. A whole lot more memories. Still laughing. Still exploring. Still falling in love with the life we're building together. And honestly, that's worth more than any hotel room. Even if the hotel room does require a small financial consultation.

And That Was Day Two!

Four hours of sleep. One gas station traffic violation. One KFC bathroom evacuation. A dozen incredible rides. One motorcycle purchase approved in principle. One thoroughly documented Minions defeat. And most importantly, one very happy woman who apparently considers the Ritz-Carlton her permanent residence.

I'd call that a pretty successful day.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a beautiful wife to cuddle up next to, some much-needed sleep to catch up on, and apparently a motorcycle to start shopping for.

Until our next adventure,

Pete & Jess ❤️