Vacation Hard!: En Fuego!!.......

First a gentle reminder. If you experience any of the following:
Easily hurt and/or compromised feelings
Extreme religious and/or political opinions and mentality
Diarrhea of the mouth while suffering the above afflictions
Please do not read my blog.

If you have an aversion to cursing, violence, sex, destruction of property, having a sense of humor, or Article 19 of The Universal Declaration of Human Rights please do not read my blog.

If you dislike or have difficulty understanding satire/sarcasm, just don't even bother. Nobody likes you anyway.






------BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP-----ATTENTION GUESTS OF L'ENFANT PLAZA---THERE HAS BEEN A FIRE REPORTED INSIDE THE BUILDING---

 

Irma starts knocking on the bathroom door, where I am sitting in peace, and hollers "There's a fire, Danny!". "Nuh-UH!", I want to holler back, but I don't.  Just because my internal monologue filter is broken doesn't mean Larry won't whip my ass for being a jerk to his lady. I drag my bones up to get dressed and lurch out. Grab my shoes and socks and out we go.

 

Out in the hall I notice the lack of smoke odor. "There ain't no fire in here. Can we just go back into the room and hide?", I ask my Dad. "I think you're right, but lets just do what we're supposed to", he says,  so we file down to the stairwell with the other 12th floor guests.

 

I plop down in front of the stairwell door to put my shoes and socks on and tell my Dad to go ahead and I'd catch up. He decides instead to go back to the room and double check that we had all major valuables, but didn't tell me that when he walked off. So I got my shoes on and waited about 3 minutes when a guy from the hotel came by and said we should go. Now, if I had any inkling that there was actually a fire, I would have waited for Dad, but I've been in a couple building fires before and this building was not on fire, so I left.

 

Down the stairs we went. The hotel guy followed right behind me and I'd stop every now and then and look up and listen to see if Dad was coming and he'd stop and ask if I was ok. "Yup, just waiting for someone". At one point he told me "You're almost there! You're doing good." like I was 5 years old.

 

At the bottom of the stairs, I'm freaking out a little. I never heard Larry behind me or even the sound of a door opening, so I was thinking he was being a smart ass and decided to stay in the room after all.

 

I turn to the hotel guy and ask "Did you see a guy come in behind us from the 12th floor? Did you hear anyone behind us on the stairs?".

 

"No", he says.

 

"Did you go through and knock on the doors to make sure everyone was out?".

 

"No, why would I do that?"

 

I look at this dick like he was from Mars: "Don't you think the hotel would want you to make sure it's guests are safe?".

 

"I don't work for the hotel, man."

 

This guy was wearing a pair of khakis and a black polo shirt and a hat with matching logos, so I assumed he was a hotel worker, but he was actually a roofer or carpenter or something when I looked closer, probably in for a convention or something . Shithead was telling me "We better go" and acting like a concerned employee of the hotel.

 

 

Even though it was a little irrational, I was pissed. I should have gone and checked to make sure Dad was coming, instead I'm being herded by this "Samaritan" asshole who probably thinks he was doing a good deed by "helping" a fat dude down some stairs.

 

Have you ever stared intensely at someone, not saying a word, until they leave your presence due to the severe anxiety it causes them? Try it, Reader. That shit works.

 

I exit the stairwell and there is Larry, standing with Irma outside in a mild drizzle. He tells me he went down right before me, probably slipping past me in a small group of people that left right before I did. We stand out there for about 15 minutes, waiting for the fake fire to be cleared. Afterward, tired and dishevelled, we wander off to dinner in the fancy hotel restaurant then up to bed.

 

 

Vacation Day 7

I got up early because sleeping in a fancy hotel bed with fancy down comforters and pillows is for fancy ladies and not for fat blue collar nurses with an asshole complex. I wander down to the lobby and snatch a complimentary paper, for which I had to show proof I was a guest at the hotel. Everybody in that lobby at 6am was wearing super fancy suits and ties and I was in comfortable vacation clothes, making me feel pretty out of place. This is why, last night at dinner, the waiters in the restaurant were just a little impatient and rude with us. We just weren't wearing the right shade of Calvin Kline and Brooks Brothers. I grab a coffee from the little bistro in the lobby and park it in a comfy chair and people watch in between reading the Washington Post, which has an unusual hard on for the Redskins, even for an NFL town. Probably because they don't want to think about how bad Washington politics suck right now so they turn the attention to something that sucks less.....The Chesapeake Watershed Region Indigenous Persons (PC term for the Washington Redskins - I thought it was funny)......who suck a whole lot these days.

 

 

I find the little computer room in the back hallway for the guests and print out the vouchers for the bus tour that we'll be going on today and call up to the room, cause those bums would've slept in til 10am if I let them. They get down to the lobby and grab a coffee and we got going into the little strip mall that's right underneath the hotel. We wander around down there and see a few shops and a little spot for a buffet style breakfast and stop in there, grab our dry omelets and corn beef hash and sit down. About 5 minutes go by and, I shit you not Reader, the fucking lights go out.

 

 

In the hall and in all the other businesses around us that we can see, all of the lights are on......but where we are.....where I am.......no lights. It was at this point that Dad and Irma are starting to show signs of actually believing that being on vacation with me is the proverbial crap shoot: any minute now somebody's gonna come in with a gun or there's going to be a monsoon (that's called 'foreshadowing' in case you were wondering). I mean, when the lights first went out the mood was like "Hmm, how strange," then, as we continued eating in the dark I caught them glancing at me quickly then looking away. Then they started leaning away from me and I'm pretty sure I saw Irma reach for a rosary in her purse. Then my eyes turned red and I was vomiting pea soup while my head spun around..........

On the next episode of Vacation Hard!: "O! say does that Star-Spangled Banner yet wave...."

.........then I walked in and nerded all over the floor.