Well, I woke up 7 hours later, got out of bed, and when I
turned around to pull the top sheet and the quilt back up to the pillow, I
noticed a small dark spot on the white sheets, about halfway down the bed. I don’t sleep with my glasses on or contacts in,
so I couldn’t quite see what it was. I
bent down, squinting to see what it was… IT WAS A
DEAD MOUSE! $%%^*^#@%%&^!!!!
I gasped and jumped back.
I can’t remember what I really did, but I know I didn’t scream, nor did
I even think to be concerned if it was maybe still alive. It was dead, but sheesh – what if it suddenly
woke up when my nose was 6 inches from it trying to figure out what on earth
it was. I think I walked into the
bathroom and walked back out to verify that this was reality. It was.
So I took my Blackberry and snapped a photo of it. Here’s a close-up of it, in case you’re interested (this picture makes it look gigantic... it was really just a small mouse, but still it was a MOUSE IN MY BED!):
I calmly got ready for the day in the bathroom, always using
caution when walking by the thing on my bed, as if it would suddenly arise and
start running around. I was calm and
collected when I went downstairs to show the front desk lady the photo. She screamed and jumped back, and eventually
the owner came out. He’s a staunch,
serious man (an Arab businessman, typically not the most warm of people), so he
wasn’t really apologetic, which was a little annoying but is fine.
I work with Arab customers on a different island, and culturally they
are just most serious people and not warm – not a bad thing, just a difference. So anyway, he was mad and immediately called
some people, one being the exterminator, and when I returned at night they had
me in a different room. Later that day,
my customer at the hardware store told me I could report it to the Department
of Health, but honestly it’s not like they planted a dead mouse in my bed. I’m not gonna go get sue-crazy over something
they didn’t do intentionally. It’s
important to show grace and understanding to others and let down our pride and
power-trip tendencies…I just asked for a new room.
It was pre-paid for, so I suppose I could have received free nights for
my next stay, but I didn’t even follow up with that. I probably won’t stay there again. I did see the Orkin truck there that night
when I returned. Apparently when you
spread mouse poison powder, they take it and carry it with them, eating it
slowly and thus dying slowly. It was
really cold in the room, and so my theory is that this little guy was
half-dead, eating his poison and slowly dying.
His discernment to avoid humans was way off, so he got cold in the room
and just climbed into bed with me, nuzzling under my rear! Never a dull moment…
ROBBED OF A WHEEL: In May, I was in Aruba for just a regular visit to
check in on my 4 customers there, presenting new promotions and products and
selling, selling, selling. I was staying
at the Westin Resort. This is a nice
resort on the beach, high-rise hotel along with a parking lot guarded by
24-hour security. The first morning there,
I somehow misplaced my rental car keys so I was using the spare that Avis Car
Rentals gave me (at a fee…). Let it be
known that I got there on the first night, checked in, went up to my room,
unpacked and went to sleep. The next morning I could not find those keys for
the life of me. I don’t typically
misplace things, but it happened. Oh
well. But that was nothing compared to
the following morning when I walked down to the parking lot to drive to my
customers’ stores. So I walked toward my
Kia Picanto (this car is a small hatchback, about the size of a roller skate),
got in the car, and pushed the gas.
SCCCCRRRRRAAATCH. “Oh no, I have
a flat tire and I don’t know how to change these things by myself.” Dang.
So I got out of the car, walked around to the back passenger side to
look at how flat the tire was – and I didn’t even have a tire! Someone robbed a wheel off of my Kia Picanto
rental! The car was sitting on the axle. WHAT IN BLAZES?!? So, I told the security guard (wondering how
on earth someone robbed a tire when I’m in a secured parking lot), and the
police had to come and I gave a statement and all of my information. The police gave me a ride to the Avis (first
time in the back of a cop car – in Aruba!), and they gave me a new car. Note that Aruba is a really safe island. I don’t want people to just think of the
Natalie Halloway murder or the Anna wheel-robbery and worry. I mean, as we know you have to be careful everywhere,
but Aruba is so touristy and protected, especially the areas I stay in, that I
don’t want to paint a picture of danger.
It was probably some delinquents who wanted to do something daring. I still don’t wander around at night alone,
but I wouldn’t do that in Green Bay, Wisconsin, either.
The funniest part is probably that I drove a few feet on 3
wheels! Remember I approached my car
from the left side and did not notice that a wheel was even missing, so note in
this photo the scrape marks on the ground – oops:
My manager always says NOT to take out the rental car
insurance, so all of the times I’ve declined rental car insurance in the past 3
years to save the company money... about all of that savings was what it took to pay for the lost keys and wheel replacement. Seriously this car is like the
size of a lawn mower, but nevertheless the wheel was about $300 and the spare
keys about $150. I was upfront with my
manager, and thankfully he told me to just expense it, that it wasn’t my fault
and these things happen. So I’m grateful
for that. As I write this, I am actually
on a plane flying to Aruba right now, staying again at the Westin, so I’m
smiling thinking to myself “ensure your car has all 4 wheels before driving
here this time around.” Never a dull
moment…
LYING MY WAY THROUGH THE ARUBA AIRPORT: Last story of the day. I’m not proud of it, but I basically had to
put on an act and play along with the Aruba Airport staff in order to make a
flight on my Aruba trip back in July.
(There’s a lot of business there, so I’m there about every other month,
hence the number of stories from the island). I tend to be under the wire when catching flights. I’m so accustomed to traveling and what’s
more traveling internationally, that I get laissez-faire
about it. I arrived to the airport 75
minutes before take-off for my flight back to Miami. I only had a carry-on, and I knew that even though Aruba has the
convenience of passing through U.S. Customs in their airport before getting on
the plane (which saves times because U.S. Customs in Miami is usually chaos), I only had a carry-on and thought I’d be fine. Well, note to self, Saturday afternoon
flights in Aruba need more time to pass through security. Looking back, it was crazy to think that that
was ample time, because you have to pass through Aruba passport control, Aruba
security (where you take off shoes, remove liquids and electronics, etc.), U.S.
Passport Control, U.S. Customs, and another security (shoes off, liquids, etc.)
before you can finally arrive at your gate.
I got to the ticket counter and he printed my ticket and told me I might not make it
because customs was full with numerous flights all going out in the next few
hours. Well, I hate doing this,
especially because it was my fault, but I said “Darn, are you sure? Well, do you think since I’m Executive
Platinum and travel all the time and only have a carry on, that you can somehow
get me through quicker? In Miami they
have 'priority' lines for those heavy travelers like me...”
(I know, how horrible is that?!
But I had to try…I was working on a Saturday and just wanted to get home
and not have to overnight again). He
told me he couldn’t really do anything, but that I could ask people if I could
go ahead of them in line (ya, right…).
So, I had to try. I got through
the first security, and as I was putting my shoes and belt back on, a tall
slender black Aruban gentleman came close to me and said “Anna?” I said
“Yes.” And he said “C’mon let’s go.”
So we were off. As we
rapidly walked he looked down at me and said “Ok you gotta play along with me,
be nice to the people, talk to them, and just play the part.” I said “Oook..” So we got to a the entrance of U.S. Passport
Control and it was PACKED. I mean people
were way passed the sign that said “You need at least 2.5 hours from this point
to make your flight.” I had never even seen
that sign before. I followed him passed
the people lined up in the hallway until we got to the room where the line did
that winding thing, about 10 windings, and hundreds of people. I wish the guy could have just let me cut
straight through, but I deserved to feel awkward and have to suffer a
little. We wound through the people for
a couple rows, and then we’d stop and he’d yell – basically to no one,
“Hey! Hey! Is he there? I think I see him!” Readers – there was no ‘he.’ At one
point this Aruban airport authority looked down at me and said “Is he bald?” And I just quietly said “Umm, yes.” LOL!! He
was pretending I had a person up front who was waiting for me! We kept walking, and he said “I think I see
him.” And I just lowered my head in
shame and said, “yeah, me too. He’s up
there.” LORD HAVE MERCY! Haha!
Oh my goodness, and the people just always moved aside, obeying his
authority. I stayed on his heels as we
weaved through the people. At one point,
we were almost to the front, and he called one of his co-workers over to talk
to him in Papiamento (a language they speak in Aruba). The guy looked at me and said in English,
“Yeah they just went through ma’am, just stay where you are and you’ll find
them after this.” So anyway, after
getting through a line that should have taken 90 minutes in 15, I got through
U.S. Passport Control and was headed to U.S. Customs and the final
security. There was my Aruban tall guy
again, waiting for me. HAHA!! I couldn’t
believe this was happening. I felt so bad. I mean most people are vacationers and are
good about allowing themselves hours before their flights and probably had
time, but it still is not fair that I got to do this, and I acknowledge
that. So my guy went with me through
U.S. Customs, which was simple since I had no checked luggage, and we arrived
at the final security check. He said
“c’mon almost there.” He motioned to
another worker, spoke to him in Papiamento, and the other guy looked at me and
asked, “Are you with Argentine family?” Oh my gosh what a non-truth. Liar!
But what was I supposed to say? I
couldn’t even say ‘yes’ at this point, I just shook my head yes with my head hung in shame, and I cut in front
of about 12 more people. I arrived to my
gate as the final people were boarding.
Wow. I still cannot believe
that happened. I feel really bad and
hesitated to even blog about it because when something is not truth, it’s a
lie; therefore the nonexistent bald guy and Argentine family were lies… but it
was pretty funny, so I had to share. This next time in Aruba, I will arrive to the airport 3
hours early this time around. Or maybe
2.5 hours is enough……
Thanks for reading!
-Anna Banana
