It's worth mentioning that La Chanteuse and I had to stage a dramatic exit from Hotel #1, the HORRIBLE AND WRETCHED BEAR TREE LODGE! Never ever ever stay here. The place was a dump, the owners are bastards, and we're pretty sure they're homophobic. They were the one dark spot on an otherwise flawless vacation. Damn you, Bear Tree Lodge! In a moment of (somewhat) false bravado, La Chanteuse and I had to go in and demand (by way of apology and weeping) our money back. We played Good Cop, Bad Cop. I was the Good Cop. I should have been worse. Like maybe we should have done Mediocre Cop, Mentally Unstable Cop. That might have been a more efficacious choice. In any case, our first step was sneakily packing our bags and throwing them in the car before we went over to the main desk to complain. Here we are, victorious after having finished Phase One of the slowest Fast One ever pulled:
Let's just say that Phase two was less successful. (Interestingly enough, we were housed in Cabin 2. And I was so mad at them that I went- a rather vindictive- #2 on their pillows in the bathroom like a normal person before we left. HA. Take THAT, Bear Tree Lodge BASTARDS!)
After we got a new hotel and watched the worst production of West Side Story ever, we visited the farmhouse where we all used to live. Interestingly enough, though we haven't been there in years, there are still subtle remnants of our occupancy:
Yup, that was our room. Cooterz R Us. It was a thriving business venture in its day.
Altogether too soon, it was time to head home. We were 5 in a small-ish car, so it's nice that we're all such good friends. See, here is a picture of Morchy reading me a story to lull me to sleep:
Like an angel! If you look closely, you can see evidence of the beer neck and goiter that apparently none of my friends ever felt like telling me I had (<---- man, that was awkward). Thanks, guys. Thanks a lot.
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