I didn’t
expect my business trip to Boston to turn out into a cheap comedy/melodrama. But
here I am, in an executive suite bigger than my flat being scared to even step
outside to get some ice.
I have to
say that the day didn’t start nicely.
All night I
kept awakening thanks to a mosquito who decide to bite, and I’m not joking, my
ass. So I woke up and I had three beautiful red itchy spots of my milk white
behind.
Then I’ve
decided to go have breakfast and there was a football team feeding themselves
on the hotels buffet. Everything that was left was Swedish bread and some lemon
jam. Dislike both, not only because of the nationality of the bread –which doesn’t
help, either- but because one taste like cardboard and the other is just an
unnatural taste for a jam. I said.
I was only
able to get black tea to start the day. One of the longest daytimes of my life,
but at that time I was ignorant of that.
So, there I
was, all nicely dress for a summer day to work with somebody I didn’t know
around Boston. But this person never showed up, she has disappeared from the
Earth’s face. So, I called his boss, who picked me up without knowing what to
do with me.
I’ve
accompanied him to his errands and here is when the disaster arrived. He
offered me a cup of coffee –and I don’t like coffee, but I accepted out of
education. It took me 5 minutes to spill it all over me, and over my
blackberry.
Blacky –yes,
my phone had name- died ten minutes after the spill.
It survived water; beer; wine,
but coffee pushed it over the edge. (Worst thing is: I never drink coffee!!!).
 |
| They apperantly, don't get along really well. |
And here is
where the nightmare began. The first hours of the day just prepared me for what
was coming…
I couldn’t
go through a scheduled conference call. I had to email from my gmail my boss
and my direct colleague to prevent them of my phone absence.
So, I went
to my meetings with somebody I was not supposed to go, but first person was
still missing.
Meeting
one: all fine.
Meeting
two: I felt some pain. But the timing was not right, so I kept doing what I was
doing.
Meeting three: I’ve decide to check out what was going on around my feminine
area. And there it was: a vibrant red spot. (Not the usual color)
For a weird state of mind, at the very first moment I thought “Shit, you
got pregnant, loser” and then my hypochondriac side step over “Maybe you have
uterus cancer”.
Three hours later, a silk dressed spotted on coffee, milk and blood and
a client’s car also stained, I’ve discovered it was just my regular 30 days
thing. That decided to come two weeks earlier.
I had one
clear goal: to find a pharmacy and a restroom.
Me: -“Do you have a restroom?”
CVS employee:
-“No, Starbucks might have one.”
Me at
Starbucks: -“Can you give me the password for the bathroom?”
Starbucks
employee: - “We don’t have restrooms. Maybe Macys does.”
Me at
Macys, 1st floor: -“Where are your restrooms, please?”
Macys’
employee: - “Second floor.”
Me at
Macys, 2nd floor: -“Where are your restrooms, please?”
Macys’
employee # 2: - “The ones on this floor are under maintenance, go to the 4th
floor.”
Four
escalators later, the entire sports department seen and an extremely
uncomfortable sensation of dripping… I found the restrooms.
In my
urgent need to get myself clean, I’ve rushed into the lady’s room. Result: I
got my skirt wet of toilet water.
Another
reason to just throw away my new dress: toilet water, on addition coffee, milk
and blood.
Time to
get my phone fixed.
Inbound time
in Verizon store: 4:15pm.
Outbound
time: impossible to calculate, any estimation would be not accurate.
Dealing
with people that hates their job or they have a really low IQ has always been a
problem for me. I know this last statement might sound harsh and intelligence racist,
but I cannot help with it.
Long story
short: three Verizon stores, two taxis, one sell & buy store later -where I
was the only person never convicted-, I found somebody able (willing?) to help
me.
While he
was on that duty; a girl asked me where I bought my shoes.
Answer it
is easy with me: Zara.
Due to my
only nice moment of the day, I was moving my feet quite a lot -I guess to brag
about my Inditex’s design when… I got attack.
A papillion
chiguagua put its little teeth on my right shoe and then it started leaking it.
 |
| Vicious criature. |
Yes, the coffee spill arrived to the shoe and the vicious criature was attracted to it.
Do you think
the owner apologized to me? Maybe in any other day of my life, but sure not I
was getting a “Sorry my little rat attack your extremities.” Not at all.
I
contemplated the idea of suing that bitch -owner and dog, both fit in this
nominative- for life. And then I remembered I’m not American.
Half way to
have my life back, I decided to head towards my hotel. But they day decided I didn’t
had enough.
A sudden wind
blown my skirt, showing everybody in a crowed square my very much stained underwear
and getting me wet with water from the square fountain.
 |
| Just like Marilyn, but in loser. |
I arrived
to the hotel with an almost destroyed, and certainly wet silk dress, a dead
phone and one half way to its grave, a chiguagua bite, three mosquito bites and
lots of tampons.
I decided I
wouldn’t go anywhere. I would close myself in the room and wait for the sun to
rise and bring a new day… But destiny had another plans for me.
Two hours later I was
inside the bed, answering emails, trying to get back to normal when… Fire alarm
went on.
I’m not
kidding –you can look on the news: Fire in Boston Sheraton.
Hundreds of
people, some dressed as professional dancers (who I must say, look very scary
from close sight), and myself were evacuated for fire in the building.
Around 11pm
I came back to my room and I prayed: “-Please, kill me now, or let me sleep.”
Tomorrow
for sure my boyfriend will dump me or the company will fire me. Or I’ll get killed by a
wild bunch of Papillion chiguaguas. (Quite sure last one is the right one).
Thanks LIFE
for not allowing me to get bored –ever.
