“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

7.27.2008

What I did this weekend








I'm not sure words are necessary.

It was supposed to be so relaxing. A weekend at a local hotel. I wouldn't have to leave town; I could still take care of Maggie, I could hang out at the pool. No worries. Be happy. And it was already paid for - back in March, the ever-wonderful Michael bought this weekend at a golf tournament auction. We figured we'd use it when we didn't have time to get away, but needed to get away. It came with breakfast. What a deal. And it was perfect timing. He was spending time at the lake helping a friend build something - a pier, a lift for jet-skis, something - I'm not really sure what it was. But something. He could come & go, and I could come & go. I could lay out by the pool & read & be alone for a bit. Sounds so easy.

Late Friday afternoon/early evening. After 3 or 4 tries, my key finally lets me in the room. All I want now is a coke, my swimsuit, a pool, the book my niece loaned me. A bucket of ice. Cokes are $1.25. Except that the machine won't accept any dollar bill. I tried every one I had. I'm annoyed, but I've been more annoyed in my life, so I figure I'll try the floor below. The elevator is slow - so slow that I was wishing I'd brought my book with me in case it got stuck - but I finally make it to the 5th floor. Here cokes are only 75 cents, and the machine takes my dollar bill! It's like a whole 'nother world! Things are looking up. The coke tumbles out, I pick it up, and realize - too late - that it's covered with brown gunk. Sticky brown Coca-Cola gunk. Which is now on my shirt. Okay, I think, a can has obviously burst inside the machine - try again. 2nd Dollar bill goes through with no problem & the 2nd coke tumbles out a little less covered with gunk. My annoyance level rises, but I take my 2 cokes, get back on the slow (did I mention also warm?) elevator, and head back to my room on the 6th floor. My key won't let me in. My key won't let me in ! My key won't let me in! I start to swear, which oddly enough, must be the abracadabra the door needs, because it finally accepts my key & I'm in. I wash the cokes, I change into my swimsuit (which does nothing to help my mood), put on a tshirt & skirt as cover, decide against a coke, and taking a cup of ice I head down to the pool. Back on that slow, just-a-tad-too-warm elevator. At ground level, I follow the sign to the pool. Or I try to. It takes me to the fitness center. I walk back to the sign - the arrow for the fitness center points up, the arrow to the pool points up. I walk back down to the fitness center. I walk back to the sign. I study it. Could it possibly mean to follow the bottom line of the arrow & just head to my right? Yes, it possibly does. I find the pool. Which requires my key to get in. You know where this goes from here.

So I head to the bar. (That would be a great ending, but I actually went to the bar to see if the ever-wonderful Michael might happen to be there & I needed to vent. Really vent.) He was & I vented. I say several times "I am SO blogging this!", which, I find out later, upsets the bartenders (who did offer me a coke & help me get into the pool area) - later they asked Michael if he knew me, and who was I? He replied, as he is wont to do "She's my artist." Artist? Huh? As in "What that"? His answer? "You know, art and s**#t"?" He's still laughing about it.

I get to the pool about 30 minutes before the kiddie-movie-at-the-pool begins. But 30 minutes is 30 minutes is 30 minutes. Nonetheless, I cannot wait to get out of there.

Saturday, I took my camera. Scared the guy at the front desk when I was taking a photo of the pool sign. I get to the 6th floor, and yep, my key will not work. No matter what. The elevator & I are becoming old friends by now. I head back to the lobby, where I'm told I've been keeping my key too close to credit cards or my cell phone, which demagnetizes it. Never mind the fact that Michael's key acted the same, and he, too, had to take it to the lobby to be "reset". (They wouldn't reset his unless he showed picture i.d. - I coulda had it worse.)

This morning we had the free breakfast. Buffet. Make your own toast. Guess what didn't work?

What hotel you ask? I'm not saying, but it's initials are H.I. and it ends in the word Select. I say don't.

UPDATE: I just this very minute realized that the 6th floor cokes are bigger! Only after looking at my photos close up! A moot point, since you can't get one, but one more laugh to tag onto this confusing weekend. :)



8 comments:

  1. OMG! I am feeling for you! The coke, the room key. I thought my wandering cursor and my flat tire that wasn't was bad.
    Home sweet home

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  2. I'm laughing at Michelle's Home Sweet Home...ugghhhh, what a time you had!

    I hope next weekend is a little cooler...and a whole lot more relaxing for you. :)

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  3. You poor thing.And to think you set out with such happy expectations!!

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  4. i've had you sitting on my desk all night long...i wanted to comment all day but i was waiting until i got my work done. which i never managed to do. had i known what this post was truly about (misery) up all night, only warm coke here, the desk chair squeaks so bad that when you are up in the middle of the night you must not move for fear of waking the family...(zippy sleeps in that room). so i am very, very sorry. not sorry in the same way as your hotel barman "oh no! what the h--l is that artist going to blog?" but sorry as only a friend can be. i wouldn't have put you through another torture. i should have closed you down and let you seethe in peace. may i offer you a glass of ice cold coke in a glass and a cool pool to float in for a day? you are a card! . have i ever mentioned that before? love you to bits!
    xox

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  5. Michelle - Yes. Home sweet home. Even messy, at least my key works!

    Enchanted - Crazy, crazy, crazy. I just need to not try so hard. Once the key gave me problems, it set the tone for everything else. That is, I let it set the tone. It's not supposed to be any cooler, but it IS Texas and it WILL be August, so that's normal. It was just a goofy weekend.

    Pam - I should know better! :)

    Robin - Oh, it was RIDICULOUS! I am sitting here this morning with a glass of iced tea (sweet - this IS the South) in hand, surveying the mess that is my office. with plans to house sit for a friend who has a pool and a gorgeous view. That's a month away, but still . . . maybe I can get onto the lake before then. At night. On the barge. That sounds good.

    And I love you to bits also!
    :) Debi

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  6. i don't suppose all this was a laughing matter for you but the story sure made me laugh...

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  7. What a bummer!

    You know what? I think the best cure for you right now is your cozy hammock in a cool shady place, a cold drink, a good book, a view of the clouds (if there are any puffy white interesting ones right now) and an afternoon in your own peaceful space...and perhaps a group hug from all of us to you.

    Big hugs, dear Debi.

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  8. Polona - Well it made me laugh too. Not at those exact moments, but by the time I wrote it down, I was laughing. It's just so goofy.

    Jaime - It's too hot even in the shade! LOL! The visual is a terrific one, however, and I will see it it my mind's eye while sprawled on the couch in an air-conditioned house, book in one hand, drink in the other.

    :)
    Love, Debi

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