Goin' Out To Cally – Part 49, Flammable Friendships

Sunday and I got out of the pool around 10 a.m. We headed up to the hotel room expecting to find Tim and Beth there so that we could pack and leave before the 11 a.m. checkout. Sunday and I were showered, dressed, and packed by ten thirty.

Tim in San Francisco.

Beth hanging in San Francisco.

Only one problem. Still no Tim and Beth.

This was before cell phones and we had no idea where they were and when they were coming back. We expected they would definitely return prior to having to check out, after all, the room was on their credit card and if we weren’t out by eleven a.m. we would have been charged an entire additional day.

Nature waits for no bathroom.

As the top of the hour quickly approached, Sunday and I thought the best thing to do was to pack Tim and Beth’s belongings for them. It certainly wasn’t the best situation, but we knew Tim and Beth would appreciate it.

Beth's friend showing his new fangled CD player.

We didn’t have a lot of time so, after throwing everything Tim and Beth owned into their luggage, Sunday and I raced down to the hotel front desk and checked out of the room just before eleven a.m. We moved the luggage over to the chairs in the lobby by the entrance to the hotel and waited.

An hour passed and still no Tim and Beth.

At this point Sunday and I started to get angry. Where the hell were they? Why haven’t they called? You have to understand that Beth called her parents everyday to update them on our trip. Surely she would burn up a few phone card minutes and give the hotel a call to let us know they were running late.

Beth on the phone... calling the hotel to say
she'll be late? No. Calling home... again.

Yet another hour passed and Tim and Beth were nowhere to be found.

The hotel workers were eyeing us and Sunday and I were becoming uncomfortable so we decided to lug all of our belongings out to the front of the hotel, under the awning.

It was hot, but we didn’t know what else to do. We just sat on our luggage and waited.

Each minute seemed like an hour and as we grew hotter on the outside, we also grew hotter on the inside. The chasm between Us and Them was growing with each passing second. As we neared the three hour mark Sunday and I were in a rage. We couldn’t fathom how Tim and Beth would be able to explain the day’s events.

Finally, a little after two p.m. Tim and Beth finally arrived. I jumped up and quickly moved over to the car.

“Where the hell were you guys?” I pointedly asked. “We’ve been waiting here for three hours!”

“Why didn’t you just get a late check out?” Tim asked.

Neither Sunday nor I knew you could ask to check out later. Instead of waiting in the heat of the San Francisco day, we could have been tanning by the pool or hanging out in a hot tub.

Before I could respond, Beth looked at her luggage next to me and asked an angry, rhetorical question, “Who packed my luggage?”

“We did,” I replied.

Beth fumed and walked into the hotel. Tim followed. Sunday and I watched through the front windows of the hotel as Tim and Beth had a heated exchange. Beth was mad, Tim obviously trying to calm her down.

A few minutes later Beth came out and whisked her luggage back into the hotel. Tim came out and grabbed his and said “We’re… we’re going to go up to the room and repack our things.”

And he was gone. Sunday and I stood there in disbelief. No thank you for packing our stuff. No gratitude for doing all of this so they wouldn’t be charged an additional stay on their credit card. No apology for keeping us waiting.

What did they do? They decided the best course of action was to make us wait even longer while they repacked everything we had packed for them.

That was it. I had had enough. Sunday had had enough. Officially, at two twenty-seven that day, we hated Tim and Beth. The line had been crossed, the bridge had been burned, the fumes had been lit. Weeks of growing tension and frustration had dismantled our ability for common courtesy and forgiveness.

From that moment on, the relationships were broken and the rest of the trip would never be the same.

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Part 49, (Text, Audio)
Part 48, (Text, Audio) - Part 47, (Text, Audio) - Part 46, (Text, Audio)
Part 45, (Text, Audio) - Part 44, (Text, Audio) - Part 43, (Text, Audio)
Part 42, (Text, Audio) - Part 41, (Text, Audio) Part 40, (Text, Audio)
Part 39, (Text, Audio) - Part 38, (Text, Audio) - Part 37, (Text, Audio)
Part 36, (Text, Audio) - Part 35, (Text, Audio) - Part 34, (Text, Audio)
Part 33, (Text, Audio) - Part 32, (Text, Audio) - Part 31, (Text, Audio)
Part 30, (Text, Audio) - Part 29, (Text, Audio) - Part 28, (Text, Audio)
Part 27, (Text, Audio) - Part 26, (Text, Audio) - Part 25, (Text, Audio)
Part 24, (Text, Audio) - Part 23, (Text, Audio) - Part 22, (Text, Audio)
Part 21, (Text, Audio) - Part 20, (Text, Audio) - Part 19, (Text, Audio)
Part 18, (Text, Audio) - Part 17, (Text, Audio) - Part 16, (Text, Audio)
Part 15, (Text, Audio) - Part 14, (Text, Audio) - Part 13, (Text, Audio)
Part 12 (Text, Audio) - Part 11 (Text, Audio) - Part 10 (Text, Audio)
Part 09, (Text, Audio) - Part 08, (Text, Audio) - Part 07 (Text, Audio)
Part 06 (Text, Audio) - Part 05 (Text, Audio) - Part 04 (Text, Audio)
Part 03 (Text, Audio) - Part 02 (Text, Audio) - Part 01 (Text, Audio)