Dopey Does Dallas

October 7, 2016 9:50pm Published by Jules Smith in Off Piste Posting (Any day thoughts) 25 Comments

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Im going off piste posting already and posting on random days because random things are happening to me that need to be written. Lets call this one “FFS Friday”

Leaving the Big Apple like a fruit loop

I managed to lock myself out of my friends house for three hours dressed only in my pyjamas. When I say pyjamas what I mean is a vest top t-shirt. It could have been worse…I was supposed to be packing to leave but went outside because I saw an unfamiliar animal in the garden and wanted to investigate. The door locked shut behind me. I hate that animal (which I later found was a groundhog) for distracting me. My friend was at work, an hour away and so I couldn’t call for them to let me back in and had to wait on the porch steps until they came home to a British vagabond making the neighbourhood look untidy. I tried to pick the locks with the only tool I had available which was an iPhone sim card remover. I need to practise the art of lock picking because all I did was get the bloody thing jammed in the lock. Yeah…I know, how to keep friends.

You got a plane to catch or something?

Yes, yes I do.

“Well, we have the wrong middle name on your ticket so you need to sort that out at the ticket desk before you can check in.”

“OH MY DAYS!” At this point, I’m already late due to an hours ride to the airport taking one hour, forty five minutes because traffic in New York DOES NOT MOVE.

The ticket desk people are in ‘mañana’ mode. Eventually we get my name changed. But then…

“Your bag is thirteen pounds over, you wanna take some stuff out?”

“And put it where? No. It needs to stay in and I really need to get going…”

“That’ll be $75.”

“Great.”

I managed to get to my plane as it boarded. Phew.

Those little bastards

Mosquitoes. Last time I was in Texas I got bitten to death. At one point I had 22 bites. I lived on Benadryl, cortisone cream (that never worked until I once mistook it for toothpaste and numbed my mouth) and margaritas to relieve the itching. I’m allergic to bites and they swell up to the size of tennis balls and stay there for months. On the plane to Texas I get bitten by one of these blighters THROUGH MY JEANS. I could feel it pulsating like an alien growth under the denim and couldn’t stop scratching it. This forced me to take medicinal alcohol on the morning plane journey to ease my stress. Having a tipsy, pissed off Brit scratching like a flea ridden monkey sitting near you on a plane unnerves American passengers.

This could be Heaven or this could be Hell

I arrive in Dallas to searing, steamy heat which further aggravates my bite. Fairy Godmother arrives to collect me and takes me to see where JFK got shot, a lovely meal, cocktails and then to our hotel. I’m happy. Things are good. The hotel even bring out cookies and milk for bedtime which I had no problem taking full advantage of. Such a lovely place – (Such a lovely place)

And then, tired out of my little mind , I go to bed after reading two sinister stories to my Fairy Godmother and Godfather from my new book. Hehehehehe… Cue the karma…

My mind is Tiffany twisted

Hotel rooms do my head in. Maybe it’s me. There’s always a ton of switches and lamps and weird curtains that you have to shut in various order with a stupid pole. Like I said, I was super tired so I turned off the lights to jump in my bed and find that it’s still bright. Hmm. There’s some sort of strip light going across the top of the bed headboards causing an illumination that is not conducive to sleep. Can I find the switch to kill it? No. No I sodding well can’t. I press everything. I get out of bed and press more buttons and the only one’s working are mine. I manage to have lamps going on and off in all corners of the room. I made the telly come on, the radio, the microwave. Yep. I even had the pre-set ‘how very dare you change it’, air con abiding to my rules but turning off this strip light? Not a chance. Infuriated and tired to the point of hysteria I stood on the beds and tried to follow it along the wall. See if I can’t yank it out or something. Nope. Hours it took me, hours to locate a stupid little button the size of a Tic-Tac that shut it off.

I woke up the this morning at stupid “o’ clock. The rains were coming down like the end of the world outside which made me think of having a shower. Another thing I have a problem with in hotel rooms are showers. It takes me ages to figure out how it works. I’m pulling, pushing and twisting and nothing happens. Suddenly the thing sprung into life and water belted out. Eventually. Half way through me sudding up, the water suddenly becomes boiling hot and I mean scalding, causing me to scream as it makes to take the skin off my feet. I nearly break my neck trying to escape the porcelain which isn’t half as shiny as the third degree burns on my shins. Once out, I put my arm in to try and stop the shower, but oh no, this thing has gone into full pelt, hot tar mode. Now I have a burnt forearm. Despite my dippy behaviour I actually have the foresight to change from shower mode to bath tap and the steaming hot water starts to fill the tub at lightning speed. I can barely see due to the insane amount of steam and wonder if I’m being boiled alive by an evil hotel spirit. I can’t turn the water off; the tap is stuck. I had no choice but to wake my Fairy Godmother at dawn.

“Knock -Knock. Help! I’m being burnt alive and the shower won’t turn off. Flood any second!”

In she comes, panicked and tired but ready to save me and also cannot turn the tap off or see because of the steam. But Fairy Godmother is an American and knows how to deal with these things. She gets on the phone and tells the hotel how their equipment has burned an English princess and that they need to get maintenance upstairs pronto before the bath overflows. Seconds later a burly man arrives and turns it off.

Forget the pink Champagne on ice – I need coffee

I go downstairs for coffee. Full, red hot, caffeine. I go with my Godfather to sit on a big comfy chair in the lobby to drink it. I fall into the big, comfy armchair which, unbeknown to me, spins round 180 degrees and I spill scalding hot drink all over my legs. Cos that’s just what I needed to happen all over my third degree burns.

Baconless breakfast?

My Godfather takes me to breakfast to make me feel better. I get there to find there’s no bacon. WHAT THE HELL? How can there be no bacon? This is America. This is why I come here.

“There’s no flippin bacon!” I cry.

The hotel is full of Marines who are so very polite it is insane.

“Hey, try this biscuit and gravy, it’s an American delicacy,” says one of them as he hands it over.

“I. WANT. BACON.”

Afraid of a lawsuit, the kitchen went and cooked me up a whole plate of bacon (which didn’t look too dissimilar to my shins) and brought it out for me. The other guests looked on covetously. But if only they knew what I’d been through to get it.

I’ve just left and arrived in Fort Worth which is like cowboy heaven and am pretty sure this place will suit Calamity Jules(AKA Texas Redneckshins)much better.

25 Comments

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“Saved by the Bacon”…
Cheers to you, “Redshins”!
? x

Well yes! At least I got something good out of the ordeal, TC 🙂

You really need one of those skull t-shirts. I need to get on the hump and buy one for you. It’s the only way to explain the situation to people wordlessly.

I do! But which one will you choose, I wonder…. This would save me a lot of explaining, Larry 🙂

Dallas had a choice, and it was a hard one. Should we be a City or a Road? Road? City? City? Road? It opted for Road. I think that was a mistake, but that’s just me.

Have fun in Fort Worth!

Hello LSP!

But it’s a good road. I like it. I like it a lot. I want to live here. Give me your house NOW! 🙂

Loving Fort Worth. It’s got everything I like about life.

House? Yes, of course. Yours.

I love this sort of compliancy, LSP. It’s in writing now so you CAN’T take it back! *This is where I find out you don’t actually have a house but a 1 man pop-up tent or an underground bunker, isn’t it….still, I’ll take it :)*

I don’t think you’re a hotel person, Jules. Too many dangerous hot showers and swinging chairs. A cowgirl like you needs to be out on the range, lassoing truculent steers and rustling up fried bacon dinners. First, you’d better rub some lotion all over your body to protect you from the mosquitoes. There must be a Comanche who’ll sell you a natural ointment.

I’m really not a hotel person. Far too many obstacles for me to negotiate. I finally made it to cowboy town, rode a mechanical bull, sat on a 2200 pound steer and went to the Honky Tonk. Not a single disaster. You are right, MR. Gorilla Bananas. Now, just gotta get hold of that Comanche mozzie juice!

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How can someone as well travelled as yourself, not be able to figure out the amenities of a hotel bedroom?
Or did you miss that particular lecture at finishing school? 🙂

Yeah well, Masher, not everyone can have their own, special made Star Trek hotel room! All the hotels I go to deliberately try and outdo each other with new fangled contraptions that befuddle my already busy mind.

I certainly didn’t do that class at Swiss Finishing School, I was too busy learning the art of fine wine drinking and rebellion. 😉

Nice play on The Eagles, Jules. You sure do get yourself into some crazy situations. It seems you need a prince to watch your back for you. Dallas-Fort Worth is a fun place to hang out.

Thank you, Break Red, I aim to be crassly cliché.

Aint no prince ever saved my bacon ( see what I did there?) there are skeletons on that path. Besides, there isn’t a soul alive who can save me from my own stupidity.

i smell coffee…

forget the bacon, when are we gonna get the bacon emoji?!!!

this is actually their best song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yGNoSQ7WhTE

*)

I smell disaster. Always. It’s very pungent and cunningly disguised as coffee. Or, I should say it like they do this end, Caaaawwwfeee.

Beautiful song, my sweet *)

well that’s totally my song, Sol! Good call 🙂

Not any more. I just talked to Sol last night, and he was most of the way through drinking the tequila he had bought for you! So, unless he restocks or starts rationing better, your song is gonna have to switch to George Thorogood’s “One Bourbon, One Scotch and One Beer.” Don’t feel bad, though. He says he drank my Johnny Walker Black Label, too. Start rationing that stuff better, Sol! 🙂

Dear, oh dear….

Well, that’s a terrible start to a holiday! So sorry about the circus of disasters, but at least it’s good fodder for writing, and you’ve taken good advantage of that aspect! If it’s any consolation, I just flew out of the Chesapeake Bay region yesterday just ahead of Hurricane Matthew, thinking I’d dodged a bullet, and only when safely on the plane realized that I was flying southwest, directly INTO the storm to make a connection in southern NC. It was socked in something horrible, and we had to get off the commuter plane in the pouring rain. Umbrellas were useless on the wind-swept tarmac. We were thoroughly soaked by the time we got on the other jet to Denver, and flying out was a roller-coaster ride in the storm. It was so rough, I would have lost my breakfast, if I’d eaten breakfast, and we couldn’t even drink until we got to Denver! But I sincerely hope your trip gets better!

I like to roll in with a bit of drama, Grunt!

My goodness! That sounds like a trip and a half! Did you have to pay extra for that thrill? Did Southwest charge YOU a $75 fee for that privilege?

No drinking? Right! Stock up the winery, load the bar with Tequila, Cointreau, lime and salt and keep my seat warm. It’s time to get this show on the road 😉

What a harrowing tale. I thought vacations were supposed to be relaxing? When does that part kick in? NYC so dull without you.

Harrowing, yes but I’m hard and used to calamity. Vacation? This, my dear Exile, is a working trip – I’m only doing this for your lots benefit!
Tell NYC that I’ll be back very soon bringing fun with a capital F_U_N. 🙂

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