Hostile in the hostel

Week 17

1. Write about someone who books a bargain vacation, only to be told when they arrive that they need to share a hotel suite with a stranger.

Elise needed a getaway...someplace rich. Or at least with things to satisfy her rich tastes. She was living in the sticks without so much as a department store to get your retail therapy from, and it was getting old. There was no place to wear her designer gear, no shop for a makeover, no ladies who lunched...none of that. Just a hippie town with a lot of artisans that shunned labels and high heels. She was an oddity, and stuck out like a Louis Vitton thumb sore thumb bandage on a green plant. And she was growing weary in her marriage. She had to get away, but how...she had no money. So, she started getting creative…

Now, Elise had lived the A-list life, attending fashion shows and gallery openings when she lived in the city. She had a friend, a nurse who did Botox for her with even more hunger for labels. This friend Stacey even flew to Abu Dhabi with a bloke who bought her designer shoes just because Carrie Bradshaw did! It didn’t end well, as she ended up splitting up with the guy and having to pay her own way back. Still, despite not working much, Stacey owned several chic condos in the edgy Pearl district...she often had beauty parties or Kentucky Derby events complete with hats that Elise was invited to. No, Elise was a bargain diva; shopping from Ebay and making do, but Stacey lived the high life. Elise envied her. 

The other issue was, how to make an excuse to her husband. She occasionally had classes or seminars, but that was not the case in this proposed getaway. She had absolutely no money, and he controlled the purse strings, so she couldn't just say she wanted to get away with the girls. In fact, he had put a chip on the car, tracking her even when she stopped to ask directions on the way to a seminar, so freedom came at a high price.  So, after calling her friend Stacey, the excuse was that she needed Elise to house-sit one of the condos as she had an event at the other one. It was very posh and glam; lots of faux fur and faux Chanel, with chic black and white accents. Elise enjoyed the beauty parties there, when Procecco and nibbles were served...such a contrast to her own meat and potato dinner her husband expected. Elise was elated; there was a huge arts fair that blocked off several streets coming up soon, and she had a Tarot-reading friend that worked those events as the condo straddled the edgy arts district. It was right near her friends Yoga studio; it would be a perfect getaway.

To save money, on the day she took her husband’s old car, the one that now had a paint brush holding the window in place and no air conditioning. It was a 4-5 hour drive, and the weather had heated up, so it would feel all the longer. Elise packed sandwiches she made and a water bottle to save money, and had a towel to blot the sweat on the drive. However, she didn’t look poor...she wore a fun cream tutu skirt she bought from a friend's boutique near the condo, and sported Gucci mules and matching handbag for the trip [driving shoes for the way up, of course]. She packed light, but brought fun things, and figured she would pick up wine and cheese from a specialty store once she got there...no problem.

Elise had been in constant contact with Stacey before the trip, so at her only stop at a Government wayside, she had some free coffee and rang her friend.

‘What do you mean, it’s not available!’, Elise cried, hot and sweaty with truckers staring at her outburst.

‘Oh, I’m sorry dear,’ Stacey said to her, ‘I forgot I promised it to Rachel, and she is paying $200 a night for it. You understand, right dear?’ What Elise understood was that money, for all her wealth and property, was something that Stacey seemed to not have, yet had the goodies. As her Southern simper got stronger, she swore she could hear Stacey’s boob and lip enhancements, all paid for by different men, rising to the beat of her $80 manicure.

‘But it’s a festival weekend! I won’t be able to find a hotel! Can I stay with you?’

‘No, darling, I'm staying at my tiny studio place, and my son has his girlfriend over at his’ meaning the house his mother bought for him. At one point in their relationship, Stacey was going to have Elise be a maid and cook for no money and collect the rent at the house in the back of beyond...no thanks!

Elise left the rest area near tears, but she got on her phone and started looking up places. She had two hours more to drive, and thought for sure she could find something! She even checked a posh hotel that she always wanted to stay in, just in case, and maybe she could justify the money, but no luck. By the time she got there, she had no reservations and figured she could find something once she was on the ground with her eyes peeled.

Walking in Gucci heels may not have been the best choice, but her original plan of free street cars the six blocks it took to get to the festival would have sufficed. But now she was on a mission…

She did run into her friend Naomi, as dark and mystical as Elise was fare and friendly. They embraced, although you never would have pegged them for friends. Fortunately Elise wasn’t too blistered then, but gladly took a seat when Naomi offered to do a free reading. The first time she read Elise’s cards, Naomi thought it was a mistake; surely this nice lady could not have this bad luck? Yes, she could...at that time she was homeless, wearing a coat from a church donation basket, coming into the sleek lobby of the hotel to keep warm where there were fun events going on. They became fast friends, and Elise picked herself back up from nothing to being somebody. That is, until she decided to get married...she thought fortune had played favour on her. Boy, was she wrong!

Elise did enjoy seeing the artist festival, walking around all the merchants with fabulous wares. She swung by her old Yoga studio to see her friends, and casually mentioned the accommodation mess up, hoping for an offer for a place to stay, but instead got a coupon for a free class tomorrow. She’d take it...but where would she stay tonight?

Feet blistered by this point, she had wandered all over that side of the city with no luck, so decided to walk on an overpass, to a youth hostel she looked up. It was still a good area...how bad can it be? She was happy at the sight of a Victorian house, nestled in old growth trees looking cozy and inviting. The website said there were vacancies, so when she got to the desk, a young man with a discernible accent greeted her.He went on to say all the dorm and regular rooms were booked, but they had this fabulous 3 bed apartment...would she like that? Yes please! A weary Elise would take anything now. He quoted her a price of $100, which seemed awfully high for a youth hostel. She had been a member of YHA and travelled the world, staying for $20 or less anywhere; even castles. But it sounded perfect. Then the indiscernible part came...you will pay $100 for ‘your part’. What did that mean?  

‘Ohhh, no problem…$100 for you...unless anyone else comes.’

Now, Elise had stayed at many B&B’s in honeymoon suites off-season, and they would give her a deal...pay this much, just don’t go in these rooms. Is that what he meant?

‘Is anyone else coming? Are they booked?’

‘Ohhh no, no problem. Just for you, my sweet’. 

After paying, Elise and her pinching Gucci’s had to walk back to the festival where she parked the car to get her stuff. She cursed herself for not carrying the driving shoes, but bought a few band-aids for the bleeding blisters along the way...along with wine and cheese. She had seen there was a balcony, and she was looking forward to that big first glass of wine. She grabbed her simple tote bag of clothes and cooler from her car and headed back. Kicking off her shoes first thing, she kept her promise and stayed out of the other rooms. She laid out her yoga outfit for tomorrow, and took her food and handbag to the balcony. That first glass did go down well, along with the cheese and fruit she had bought from home. The night was settling in and fairy lights lit up in the garden beyond. Elise decided to call her husband as she cleaned out her handbag and tote, making a giant mess on the balcony. Suddenly, the door swung open wide, and a tall blonde man walked in and said, ‘I guess we are sharing!’ No explanation from the front desk, no courtesy walk through like they did for her, just here I am! Elise told her husband on the phone what happened and that she would call him back. Inasmuch as she was unhappy with her marriage, this story could have a much different ending for Elise with a tall stranger. But it ended with an indigent Elise, after storming down to reception, spending the night with one eye open, listening the noise that happened to disturb her much needed peace. In the morning, after dry toast and coffee in the most disgusting common kitchen area she had ever seen, Elise wrote a scathing review and drove back home to her certainty, none the more refreshed than when she left...