H is for Hope

In the ever present quest for truth, I may have stumbled upon one.  Not a new one, with respect to the idea of ‘original thought’, but an enlightening one to me.  Admittedly, I am a little freaked out in general, but tonight about which I will elaborate specifically, a ‘pop-up’ sound byte every 180 seconds of in a psychotic adult voice expressing, "Oh my gosh…no way!"  Yes, three dots, no comma.  I’m really hoping this is a friendster thing and is happening to others- I do jump everytime. 

So back to the truth.  Life, and I shan’t be so egocentric to think it of just my own, is a comedy and sometimes tragedy of errors.  Maybe it is just me, because after reporting to my mother the regularly occuring mishaps of my little life, she rarely believes me and responds laughingly with, "You are so sick, and such an imagination."  And I think she is proud.  The trouble is, I’m not making these things up and she honestly proceeds to not believe me.  Side note:  she is crazier ‘n hell.

After an emotionally exhilirating and then trying week, I prepare to report to my mother’s B & B to inn-sit.  Specifically, animal-sit for 2 dogs, 3 cats and four birds.  I call my mother to tell her it will be late because I am going to a play to which she replies, "Oh, I guess I should have fed the animals this morning."  Well, yes, since they left at 3 pm.  The least interesting mishap is the fact that the damn good provider’s car is dead and he has to take mine.  No jumper cables and a lost AAA card later, I am on the road with my trusted Lucy at 12:30 AM heading to Waynesville.  A drive that consisted of contemplating the possibilities of 5 acres and a well-intentioned haunted house alone + 3 dogs, 3 cats and 4 birds.

A day of much needed and distracted line-studying insued.  While thinking, is there anything else in the world that I could possibly need to do excepting the task at hand- ah yes!  I need to change my flight for next weekend.  I have a flight to Iowa on Thursday I can’t take due to play rehearsal that I’ve known for a month.  I get online to check the flight availabilty for Friday morning and my heart drops to find that the low airfare has escalated to $890 dollars.  I know this, and call the airline with a premeditated lie about family emergency in my pocket, of which I readily abandon at the thought of the real possibility.  I spend half the day on the internet, considering driving to Iowa, not going, etc. etc. etc.  It would take a long painful time to describe the ‘representatives’ empathy and attitude in telling me that, ‘Even if you do find a cheaper than $500 one-way ticket there, you would still have to pay an extra $200 to keep your return flight if you don’t take the first one- because if you don’t get on that, they’ll cancel it and we’ll have to consider it cancelled and have to rebook you on your scheduled Sunday flight and that one-way is quite expensive.  Oh, and you’ll still need to pay the $100 rebooking fee on top of that."  One cancelled ticket, two-one ways- one cheapy on AirTran (love air-tran) and one Delta, which I had a credit for- I’m still going and would like to say I strongly dislike NorthWorst.

But alas, that’s just bitching-

Through this internet quest in the dungeon which is the office of the B & B, I am awaiting guests to greet who are supposed to arrive at 3:00.  I go back and forth, running upstairs, calling airlines, etc.  And get a call from the ‘guest’ and 4:30 asking if this is a dry county.  Good question, I’m thinking- he’s in Asheville wondering if he should pick up something before they arrive.  I’m racking my brain for an ABC store in Waynesville when he saves me with, "I mean, can I get beer there?"  I told him I thought his selection might be better there, but yes, there is beer in Waynesville.  (But no coin-operated castration house, as it was shut down late summer.) 

I put on my customer service smile, B&B style, and go up to greet the customer a half hour later.  I was especially nice because the woman seemed uncomfortable.  In answer to the question would it be a busy night, "You lucked out, you have the entire place to yourself!  Make yourselves at home!"  So, I’m a drink snob- he deposits his unmentionable beer choice in the refrigerator, gives me a look like that I got often when I was 12, and says, "We’ll take our adult beverages down to the balcony."  Before they make their way, he asks, (retrospectively, in an alarming way,) "So… will you be on the grounds the entire night?"  To which I answer whole heartedly, "Of course, I’ll be here all night, if you need anything."  He asks about restaurants, so I’m feverishly looking for the black book of menus while I, seriously, can’t help but overhear from the balcony, "So, what does your husband do?"

I’m thinking, fine, their having an affair.  But doesn’t an affair infer that at least basic information has been exchanged?  Is it an internet meeting?  Or is it more similar to recent headlines such as:  "Man Meets Woman at B&B in WNC and Slays Both Her and Innkeeper".  I mean, what would happen to the animals?

We shall see.  I have to get up at 7 and make stuffed french toast for them, per his request.