It all started underneath the twinkling lights of the Four Seasons cabana.
And by that I mean the 3am blinding lights of the Ft. Lauderdale airport.
Perhaps I’ve jumped along too far in my narrative and will have to backtrack quite a bit until we end up there, but I had to set the mood.
Game 4 of the Eastern Conference Finals finally ended with a W, and my sister-in-law and I needed a place to sleep before we made the trek back to Boston.
We had been bee-bopping back and forth from Boston to Miami to Little Rock to Albuquerque like it was nothin’, which turned out to be something after we checked our bank accounts.
I had just wrapped a movie in New Mexico and was anxiously awaiting Game 7 of the Philly series to see where my fate lay. After a few minutes into the game, that shellacking told me to redirect my return flight to LA to Boston to cheer on the C’s against the Heat.
After an ugly 0-2 start, I quickly realized I was 100% to blame and needed to fly in reinforcements. My sis-in-law, Kori, would do. Of course, she had to be selfish and graduate from med school during Game 3, so I unselfishly decided to fly from Boston to Little Rock to support her in her selfish endeavors, so that I could gain brownie points and make her fly to Miami with me shortly thereafter. On a serious note, congrats, Kori, I could never. #Dr.K
To game 5 we go!
The C’s travel in style. Cue the Four Seasons cabana. After a fantastic victory with my good luck charm and big brother John in tow, we knew what our purpose was— travel to every single game with the team so that they stood a chance at victory. No, it wasn’t Derrick White or Rob Williams who sealed the deal. It was the dynamic duo of Kori and Nicole Kornet sporting #40 jerseys that brought home the dubs. This was a price we were willing to pay.
However, not too high a price.
The team checked out Saturday morning. AKA the free room we had was gone. We girls’ flights were not until Sunday morning.
Hellooooooooooo, Four Seasons cabana. We tanned, we sushi’d, we conquered. Until midnight hit. The squatters felt guilt. And by guilt, I mean Kori felt guilty because I have yet to feel such a feeling.
S/o to the front desk receptionist who graciously allowed these stanky Kornet gals to lift & shower at the fourth floor Equinox before their sleepover underneath the Four Seasons cabana.
We lasted about an hour until Kori’s guilt-ridden conscience got the best of her.
To the Ft. Lauderdale airport we go!
It was around 1am at this point. The padded cabana bed felt like a flutter in the wind. We had the cold, bright, hard, airport floor to house the once 5-star hotel guests. Kori buried her head face-down into the nasty carpet. I lasted about an hour. For those of you who do not know, I don’t do well in the cold. I had to get out of there.
To an outdoor bus bench I went!
Kori woke up around 3am. Saw where I once had lain about two hours earlier. A new patron was sprawled across my former armrest-less seat bed.
“That doesn’t look like Nicole,” Kori thought to herself.
“Excuse me, ma’am, I don’t want to alarm you, but was there a tall, blonde girl lying here earlier?”
The very alarmed girl sprang up. “No,” she responded.
“How long have you been here?” Kori asked.
“Since about 3am.”
Looking at her watch, the time read 5am.
“Oh, crap. Nicole has been missing for two hours now.”
Kori scanned every hooded girl on the ground, paced the bathrooms, and zipped up and down the escalators, wincing at every “CAUTION HUMAN TRAFFICKING” sign slapped on every pole in sight.
The brand new doctor with a fresh scar from an achilles surgery did not feel confident.
“What will I tell John when I have to tell him his sister has gone missing in Miami?”
As a last-ditch effort, Kori approached a gate agent.
Seeing the horror in my sister-in-law’s face, the nice check-in lady asked, “Can I help you with something, ma’am?”
“Can you tell me if someone has checked in yet?” Kori replied.
“No, ma’am, unfortunately that is classified information.”
“Ok,” said Kori, defeated.
“Is something the matter?”
“Well, my sister is missing and has been missing since 1am.”
“Oh my. Want me to do an all-call?”
“Yes, please.”
“NICOLE KORNET, PLEASE REPORT TO THE CHECK-IN COUNTER. NICOLE KORNET, PLEASE REPORT TO THE CHECK-IN COUNTER.”
In my Florida-humidity-gas-fumed-outdoor-curb-sleeping-chamber-induced fog, I heard my name.
“DID I MISS MY FLIGHT??”
“Where’s Kori?!”
“Where’s my phone?”
“Why am I sweating?”
As this myriad of questions rushed through my head, I located my phone and gathered my thoughts. Ten missed calls later, I ran inside and spotted Kori with the gate agent.
“You rang?”
Immediate disgust from Kori as I explained how I had napped outside all night amongst the human traffickers.
Reunited once more, the girls had a job to do. Game 5 in Boston.
Hours later we found ourselves brushing our teeth in the Boston Logan airport. We changed our smelly socks, threw on our #40 jerseys, and Ubered to the Garden.
One 20-point beat down later, my good luck charm struck again.
We slept most of the next day away, then found ourselves in a pickle. Flights back to Miami were pricey, and the guys were only going to be there for barely more than 24 hours.
“Do we go???”
The answer is always go.
It was do or die.
But Kori’s conscience had other plans.
It was expensive. We had just gotten to Boston. Luke’s wife and kiddos needed their aunties. We decided to plant it in Beantown.
Luckily, the most fun watch party with 300 diehard Celtics fans allowed us to channel our inner crazy for 2.5 hours of the most fun basketball in Game 6 history. Thank you, Derrick White. IYKYK.
Game 7 back in Boston. We did it. Emphasis on the WE.
We will spare you the rest of the story, because as most of you know, it wasn’t a happy ending.
I’m now in the backseat of my dad’s Jeep driving to Lexington, KY as I type. I was in Nashville last night at a Boz Scaggs concert with my mom, aunt and uncle. The rise and the fall.
It has been a whirlwind three months. I spent 2.5 of those months in Albuquerque filming another LeBron Springhill Entertainment Netflix movie. I had the best time. 90% of the fun that was had is credited to the one and only Sam Griesel. Remember the name, folks. We all know it’s easy to remember the face.
He was my adventure buddy as we took on the bleak indoor/outdoor shopping malls, desert hikes, and plethora of coffee shops the city of ABQ has to offer. He booked the lead villain role in the film, which is another terrific story in and of itself. Sam, along with my coworker, Ashanti, and myself became the three best friends that anyone could have.
Thanks to the awesome peeps at The University of New Mexico, we shot at the practice facility M-F for a few hours of early morning individual work. You can leave the game, but the game won’t leave you. I hopped in those Ashanti-led workouts every morning and tried my best to hang with Sam. By tried my best, I mean flourished. This old hag still got it!
We lifted, we swam, we tanned, we hiked, we golfed, we sat at coffee shops (s/o Suenos), we attended murder mystery parties, we drove 6 hours and back to Phoenix to watch the Suns play the Nuggets, and oh yeah, we shot a movie.
As the last day of filming quickly approached, we had to say our goodbyes, leave our summer camp-like best buds, and go our separate ways.
Boston beckoned.
After the Eastern Conference Finals’ bitter ending, I knew I wanted to fly back to Nashville to hang with the ‘rents for awhile.
After every movie, the insanely busy schedule vanishes into thin air, and you’re left with no schedule at all. Time to play the “wait for the phone to ring” game. But there’s beauty in this time off. Time to create a schedule of your own. Wake up, eggs & toast, sprints at Centennial Park, iced coffee at Vandy, tan on the rooftop, lift at Planet Fitness, dinner by dad, and repeat. I love summer.
So, as I peck away on the keyboard in the backset, I reflect on what the last few months have shown me:
- Kori Bullard is the best good luck charm until she’s not.
- Let Sam plan.
- Say yes to 6-hour road trips if Jeff Green leaves you tickets.
- C’s in 7 needs to be clarified.
- When in doubt, don’t leave The Four Seasons cabana.
