Saturday I went to the beach to rent a cabin for my vacation in April. When I got to the real estate office, I told the lady which dates I needed and which cabins I was interested in. Those of you who know me are correct in assuming that I had my notebook, file folder and clipboard with me so we were able to hit the ground running.
When I told the lady I was interesed in a particular cabin, she looked at me and said, "That one is very basic."
She said this to me in the same way that Tony Soprano would tell someone, "You don't want to use that waste removal contractor."
I told her that my family liked the pictures because it has a pool table and she repeated in the same monotone, slightly threatening voice, staring right into my eyes, "It's very basic."
A man who was there at the same time, looked at me and said, "It's a guy thing. They always want the one with the pool table."
The real estate lady shot him a look that said, "Mind your own business, buster."
She looked back at me and I said, "Okay, let's scratch that one off then."
She then gave me the keys to the three cabins from my list that weren't rented for the week I wanted and which met her, evidently, high standards of beach cabin rental ethics.
When I got to the first cabin, I noticed that there was an SUV parked under the cabin. I assumed it was someone on the beach who just decided to park their car under this particular beachfront cabin. I was wrong.
I climbed the stairs and walked around on the deck for a minute when, suddenly, the front door of the cabin opened. Standing there was an extremely surly 40-ish-year-old woman. Who can be unhappy at the beach, I ask you?
I said, "Oh, hi! The lady at S_____'s told me no one was staying here. I'm thinking about renting this cabin in April."
She just glared at me. She glared. At ME.
I said, "I'm sorry. Is this your cabin? The lady must not have known you were here."
"It's not my cabin and she knew we were here. I paid her, " she scowled.
Being as sweet as I could, I walked over to her and tried to look inside the cabin and said, "Do you mind if I just peek at the living area right here? I won't walk in."
She blocked the door like I was Freddy Krueger trying to murder her and everyone inside. Behind her, I could see two women, one sitting at the kitchen table and one sitting on the couch. There was no wild-drug-sex party going on which would have at least explained her lousy attitude at being so rudely interrupted.
I, suddenly, did have a very real desire to go all Charles Manson on her ass but I just said, "Thanks, anyway, bitch." (I didn't really say that.)
The good news is that I got my cabin and now I'm ready for the Stingaree Music Festival which is being organized by Hayes Carll. Yeah, that's right. I didn't tell any of you, my faithful readers, about it until I had MY cabin rented.
You didn't know I could be so sneaky, did you?