I normally keep personal stuff like this confined to Facebook, but I can't go on at length there like I can here.
I went to a friend's hometown to attend her Halloween Party. I got there the night before, and rented a hotel room. I asked if I could extend my stay by a few hours, and the clerk said yes, just come down in the morning to make the arrangement. Well, morning comes around, before I head downstairs I decided to fire up the laptop to check the itinerary of events I planned out for the afternoon. I reached over to pick up the laptop and
OW!
My back started killing me. I figured I had tweaked a muscle. Actually I hoped that was all. I went ahead and checked out the locations of the tourist traps in the area. After that I hobbled my way to the front desk to extend my stay and get some more sleep.
No go. They had sold the room out from underneath me, and that the whole hotel was sold out. They told me to get out right away. I guess my kind is not welcome there. The kind that laugh too loudly at the David Hasselhoff Roast. So I get my stuff and leave.
Across the road is another hotel, they didn't open up until 9, it was 8:30. I wait, go the office and they said that they don't open for another half an hour. Thirty minutes later a sign is on the door saying be back a 11:30.
For the next three hours I'm dodging horses pooping in the street, closed roads, and too narrow roads for two way traffic. After 20 hotels in three cities not one let you check in before 3 in the afternoon, I had gotten to be pretty frustrated. By this time my back was so bad I decided to call it quits and go home.
I called my friend to see if it was okay to stop by for a few minutes about five hours before the party. I could tell by the sound of her voice and the ruckus in the background that I had called her at a bad time. At that exact moment in time my phone died. I figured that was the one hint not to ignore. I went home.
Even if the phone had lived, I would not have told her about my back. I feel if I did, that would by like trying to guilt her into feeling sorry for me. And to put up with me when she had more important things to do. Plus, my little owie is nothing compared to the crap she's been through, I know, I was there when it happened.
When I got home I went the emergency room and the doctor said I probably just strained a muscle. I chose to go to an emergency room back home for a couple of reasons: I didn't know if my insurance would cover me at my friend's place. And, if the injury was serious and required an extended stay, I have family that I could brow-beat and guilt into helping me out.
Now, If my friend, if she still calls me that, invites me next year; I'm buying my room for two days at least two weeks in advance.
Update: 11/3/10
I've been invited back for next year. I think I'll ask for the day off as well.
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