So…I said I was going to write about my vacation this time. And since sometimes the (my) mind is a terrible thing, I guess I ought to write about it now. You know, before I forget details and stuff. Because last week I was sitting in the sand, soaking up the sun with nothing but a swimsuit, towel, lotion, and book. And this week I’m sitting in my kitchen…waiting for the dryer to buzz so I can switch loads. It’s not gonna take long before I lose that vacation-lovin’ feeling. By this time tomorrow—when my hands are wrapped around a brush and shoved mid-way inside my toilet—it should be totally gone.
Anyway, Puerto Rico was awesome. But as with most things in life that involve me, it wasn’t without a few snags. (But this is totally not my fault. That’s the great thing about being married—when things go wrong, I can always blame my husband. Sure hope he is isn’t reading this).
But back to my story.
So when we get there, we walk up to the check-in counter. Immediately the check-in lady says, “Can I have a credit card for incidentals?” And we say, “Sure,” and hand one over. And in the back of my mind I’m thinking “Should we do this? ‘Cause this didn’t end well last time. Remember, the hotel charged us for, like, three days of room service we didn’t use? And they put an ungodly hold on our card for just-in-case purposes? You know, just in case I wanted to visit the spa twelve times. And just in case we wanted to rent a limo. And just in case we planned on trashing the room and owing all kinds of money for brand new furniture. Stupid Marriot. And that lovely gigantic hold didn’t go away for, like, ten days. But of course I didn’t say this out loud. Because I was also thinking, “At least we pre-paid for the room this time. How bad could it be?”
I really should have used a couple extra minutes to think more.
Because we handed over the card, then went upstairs to our room, and then a little while later I decided to check our balance. Because everyone knows that the best tropical vacations always begin with a quick review of bank statements.
So I opened our account and saw the hotel name.
And they had charged us a ton of money.
Like, I-could-quite-possibly-make-my-house-payment-on-this-much-cash kind of money. Like, I-probably-coulda-booked-a-side-trip-to-Hawaii-with-this kind of money.
What the heck to they consider incidentals, anyway?
Because, to me, incidentals include the occasional glass of wine. The forgetting of the toothbrush (guilty). The in-room Zac Efron movie that I just gotta see right now (also guilty).
Incidentals don’t include plunking down my life savings for a room I already paid for.
I’m drafting a letter to Paris right after I type this blog post letting her know that this sort of behavior is soooo not hot.
But aside from that rocky start, the rest of the trip was great for lots of reasons. Those reasons being:
• Hair-washing was optional.
• Showering, also optional.
• Despite the area being surrounded by rainforest, it only rained once.
• Despite it only raining once, my naturally-curly hair was awful. Worse than in high school, back when I paid good money for really bad perms. (This particular point doesn’t belong on the “great” list, but it required a mention).
* I got to hang out with my husband. He’s pretty cool.
• My entire routine consisted of lying back in a beach chair, falling asleep, waking up, and flipping over. Then repeat. And repeat.
• A coconut fell from a tree right next to me. On the sand, not on my head. So I took it as a sign and smuggled it home inside my suitcase. (I was so disappointed to find out this behavior is perfectly legal. My one chance to be a rebel…to have a brush with the law…to be Bonnie to the coconut’s Clyde—and I totally blew it).
• I read books. Three of them. In five days. The last time I did this, I was in high school. With a limited social life. (Funny—now that I’m older, I don’t want a social life).
• I began writing a new book…finally. (I love being home, but four kids, summer, and mucho chores isn’t exactly conducive to new-book-starting. It is, however, conducive to ice-cream eating. I’ve done this quite well).
• I ate ice cream. But only once.
• I came home waaayyy tanner than when I left, which pretty much made the whole trip worth it.
So there’s my vacation in a nutshell. Perfect. Relaxing. Fun. Wish I could do it again.
And maybe I will one day…once I can afford it.
Which, since this dang hold just came off my card, probably won’t be anytime soon.