Day One, Mini Vacation Wasaga Beach

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Originally uploaded by Suzy Snow.

Day One

I decide to phone into work before I leave the house on Tuesday to see if by chance my overtime cheque has arrived. If it’s in then perhaps the cheque will cover the cost of my car expense on Saturday.

"Yes they arrived on Friday. I’ll put your cheque in your drawer for you."

"Thanks a lot, I’ll see you later. I’m not sticking around though. I'll just pick up my cheque and then I’m off to start my vacation."

After two hours of packing I finally say goodbye to Mom and Melissa. I check the clock on my dash and notice that it’s noon. Not too bad, I will have the best part of the day to spend lounging on the beach.

The cheque is more than I expected. On the way to my office I tried to think of what it would be and anticipated a cheque of $150.00. Not enough to cover the car expenses but it would help. It is five hundred dollars. I excitedly call my mom to let her in on my good fortune. Feeling happier, I leave work and head directly to the mall.

My daughter had been in Wasaga Beach on the weekend and told me that the evenings were very chilly. I decided that this is as good a time as any to get a new jacket.

With my new purse, wallet, earrings, jacket, various sundries from the drugstore and a full tummy from a delicious lunch I venture back to my car to begin my adventure. The time is now 3:00 p.m.

An hour later, I am pulling into the motel and immediately notice the empty parking lot. No problem, I wanted a rest so I should be happy that the motel is quiet. Smug that my plan of arriving after the busy long weekend is going to pay off, I walk into the office to check in.

The young fellow behind the desk looks as though I have just woken him up, but between yawns manages to take my particulars. The sign on the wall states that efficiency units are $200.00 per night, July and August. He wants to know if I am paying by cash or credit card.

"Debit."

"OK that will be $100.00 per night."

"I’ll pay for two nights. My friend is joining me tomorrow. Is that the price for a unit in the new building with a fridge and stove?"

"Yes and we have two layouts. What one do you want to take?"

"Well, what is the difference between the two?"

"One is an open concept design with one big room, two beds and the bathroom at the back and a small fridge and cook top. The other has a full fridge and stove, two separate bedrooms with the bathroom dividing the two."

He looked at me impatiently waiting for my decision.

"I’m not sure which one to choose; the two bedroom one sounds good. Do you think I could see them?"

"Sure."

With a sigh he grabs the keys for the two rooms and saunters out the door. I get the feeling that I am really putting him out, but I don’t care. It’s my vacation and I want to make the right choice.

The two bedroom looks huge and adequate. The bathroom is brand new with a huge bathtub that I can visualise myself lounging in it later. We walk down two doors to look at the other unit. He opens the door and it looks just like any other motel room with a TV on a low dresser on one wall and two double beds across from it.

"I’ll take the two bedrooms."

"OK."

He leaves me to unpack my car. The first thing is to get my vodka and wine in the fridge. The fridge and stove are in the back bedroom. It’s unusually dark and I fumble with the lamp. It doesn’t work. That pisses me off. I reach up and turn on the light above the stove. It cast a faint yellow hue and I feel a little apprehension as I continue with my chore of unpacking.

I look around the bedroom that I have claimed for myself, but then it hits me that if I’m in the back then I won’t be able to watch TV because there is only one and it is in the front bedroom along with the air conditioning unit.

This won’t do. I acknowledge that I made a mistake but tell myself it’s OK because I can change rooms in the morning when Debbie arrives.

I might as well sleep in the front with the air and the tv.

I walk into the other room and flop on the bed pointing the remote control at the TV. No matter how much I push buttons, nothing happens. This requires getting up close to inspect the problem. The TV was unplugged for some reason and I expect results after I plug it in, but still nothing.

I continue to fool around with it but no matter which channel I choose I still see the white fuzzy screen of a broken TV or a television that is not connected to cable. The thought crosses my mind that perhaps they cut the cable off after Labour Day.

It’s not suitable. I decide to call the front desk and complain.

Where is the phone?

No matter where I look; in drawers, behind doors, in cupboards or under the bed, I still end up with nothing. No telephone. No TV. $100.00 per night. What the fuck?

It’s 4:30pm and all I want to do is go for a swim. I might as well get changed and then on my way to the beach, I’ll tell the guy to fix the TV and I’ll complain about no phone. Or at least ask if it’s been misplaced.

The front office is empty but the door was open when I walked back in. I can hear him talking on the telephone and he soon appears in front of me, still talking into a cordless phone. He starts to fumble with the computer and tells the person that he is checking for their reservation. He can’t tell the caller what the charge will be because the manager will not be back until Thurs, but he knows it will be at least $100.00 per night. The person on the other end of the line mentions the name of another establishment and then he informs him that is not who he is speaking with and suggests he check with the other motel first, but if that fails he does have rooms available.

Hanging up the phone he turns his attention back to me and I am not sure but I thought I could see annoyance in his face. Without missing a beat, I launch into my dialogue about the TV and the missing phone, the lamp that doesn’t work and that I think I made the wrong choice and will most likely move into the other room the next day once my friend arrives.

He suggests that I change rooms right away because it would be much easier and I follow him back to my room so he can check out the TV. After a couple of seconds he gets it working. I’m not sure what magic button he chose, but he tells me that he’ll open the other room and that I can take my time moving. He will bring me the room key and pick up the other one later.

It takes me less than five minutes to vacate the room and settle into the new one. I notice that he has turned the TV on and I think that is rather cheeky. This is not the best start to my holiday. If I had not already paid for the room and if it was not the choice of my friend, I would have packed my car and gone to another establishment.

Ready for the warm sun and sand I push the negative thoughts aside and reach for the remote to turn the television off (always a conservationist at heart). It takes me a few minutes to find it. Someone had pushed it to the very back of the shelf below the TV. The power button elicits no response. I cannot believe it. With an overwhelming feeling of defeat, I walk back to the office to get my key and enquire about the remote control.

Again, the front office is empty when I walk in and it takes a few minutes for him to appear. I am not mistaking the annoyance on his face. It is obvious that he regrets taking my $200.00 just as much as I reqret having paid it.

"Here’s your key. Thought I would save you the trip because I want to go for a swim on the beach. By the way, the remote control isn’t working for the TV."

"It isn’t?"

"Nope. I tried and tried, but the back cover is off and it sounds like something inside is loose when I shake it."

"I’ll be over in a little while to check it out."

"I’m going for a swim, can you tell me how to get down to the beach front?"

"What?"

"Where is the access to the beach?"

"Right by the bbq’s."

I hadn’t noticed any bbq’s but I knew from the web site that there is supposed to be access to the beach front from the motel and that there are bbq’s for the guests to use. Rather than question him any further, I leave the office and walk in the direction he had pointed.

At the back of the parking lot is an elevated deck with picnic tables and lawn chairs. Thinking that would be an ideal place for a bbq, I climb the stairs to the deck. There is a fence dividing the space from the patio of a bar named Sandbar and the gate is padlocked closed. I know if I can get into the patio of the bar, there will be stairs leading to the beach. This must be the wrong way though. I still do not see the bbq’s.

I know that I can always walk around the corner, but it annoys me that again someone has falsely advertised themselves and they get away with it.

On the way to the street I see the young fellow heading towards my room to see about the remote control. I decide to try one more time.

"I’m sorry but I can’t find the access to the beach front."

He points to a location behind me.

"The gate is right there, behind the bbq. Do you see it?" At the same time he walks over to it and opens the gate.

I feel foolish. The bbq’s are tucked underneath the overhang of the deck at the very edge of the parking lot, just where any reasonable person would put one. I shake my head and walk past him into the narrow alleyway. The pavement is overgrown by grass and as the gate swings shut behind me, I’m overcome with the scent of human urine.

I decide that I will not return to my room this way and hurry to the door at the other end. Once on the other side, I turn around to see where the doorway is located and notice that there is no doorknob. I wouldn’t be able to get back in anyway.

Once the decision to take a mini vacation with my friend was made, I started to imagine how I was going to spend my free time. I imagined myself swimming in the lake, lying on the sand in the sun, sitting at a picnic table writing, going for walks on the beach and taking pictures of the sunset.

After doing all the above in just over an hour, I stood looking at the four walls of my motel room wondering what I was going to do now and felt an overwhelming feeling of loneliness replace my earlier happy anticipation.

…to be continued