of wine and giggling

Pretty isn't she?


Tonight i discovered that i quite like the new bottled Smirnoff lemonades - so much so that i drank a full 11.2 ounces with dinner...


and i've been giggling ever since.

which reminded me of this rental car (as seen before in Indigo Roth's  Gravity Takes Hold Again ) and just how much i wanted to drive it - just a little bit - and how, being the gentleman that he is, Indigo consistently found creative ways to tell me why i wasn't able to.

i wasn't on the lease.  what if i have an accident.  i wasn't insured.  and the best and truest reason of them all; i couldn't see over the steering wheel let alone the dashboard....

i firmly believe he wanted her all to himself if only for one long straight run with pedal fully to metal (because i certainly did) but, as much as it must have hurt, he never once left me standing there in the dust when i got out to explore... god bless him for that, because i am sure he was severely tempted...

which brings me to the point of this story and the reason he was right not to allow me anywhere near the keys...

we'd been exploring all day in that black beauty and finally hit town just as it was closing for the night... there was however an open restaurant/bar with live music so in we went. and we had a grand time eating and chatting and listening and sharing a carafe of wine - though he would probably tell you i didn't share, i will swear that i let him have a small taste...

and by the time we left i was giggling quite well.

but, nonetheless as soon as we hit the sidewalk and started heading back to that black beauty waiting for us in the parking lot i started to scheme; perhaps now that his tummy was full his guard was also down. now might be the perfect time to ask (yet again) if i could drive....

and so with all the best of my feminine charms i asked.

and he answered in some wonderfully courteous form involving the wine i had just consumed and he walked on...

i'm sure i was giggling through my protest, but never mind.  protest i did; 

"you worry far too much. i didn't have that much to drink. i'm fine" i said.


...and then promply fell off the curb.




 





 

petite's law

it has been a long dreary winter filled with renovations...

to break up the long winter rut - or perhaps to stave off my greeting him while wielding an axe with the all too famous; "Wendy, I'm home!" -  mr. petite went online and rented a hotel suite with a jacuzzi tub - and to make it even more romantic it was in the hotel that hosted our wedding rehearsal dinner all those hundreds of years ago....

so we spent the day driving about, trucking through new fallen snow, viewing our very beautiful lakeshore and it's lighthouses amidst hints of early spring sunshine....




until we finally reached our destination...

the parking lot was a bit iffy. not only had it not been plowed but these signs were posted here, there, and everywhere :




the hotel itself was presentable and from what mr. petite had read online, it had been newly refurbished. the snow was also fairly new as well, so just maybe the signs were fairly old...

we tucked any questions we might have had toward at the back of our thoughts and in we went.

the hotel was gorgeous. crystal chandeliers, marble floors, double oak staircase with mirrored panels that reflected facets of one very elegant grand entrance in wonderful shimmering light...



even so, the questions remained and mr. petite very politely told reception that we would like to see the room first... 

the smiling receptionist said it was no problem and gave him the key to our suite - and why not? they already had our credit card information right?


walking the hall we passed a few banquet rooms filled with gorgeous antique tables and chairs... and i started to feel more and more comfortable...

and then the mr. opened the door to our suite....

the room is not only filthy, it's still occupied!

what the?!? 

we fast retreat to reception where mr. petite fills them in and tells them we will not be staying.

reception is horrified; "oh my gosh! i am so very sorry! we will give you a two room suite instead! and, of course, i will personally show it to you before you make your decision."

reassured, we follow the receptionist to another room as he apologizes profusely and gives us further details on the two room suite as he opens the door...

and suddenly takes the stance that lets one know without a doubt they should not come any closer and says; 'huh!? what?!? this room isn't clean either!?!...'

and back we go to reception where he finds there are no other rooms available - like we really wanted to see lucky number three - and mr. petite tells him we won't be staying.  reception then proceeds to explain that the fault is ours because we are standing there demanding our suite before check in time and if we would just come back at check in time.... (15 minutes later)

mr. petite just calmly repeats that we won't be staying and he would like them to cancel our reservation...

reception replies that they are sorry but they cannot cancel the reservation. reservations have to be canceled by using the phone number listed on the webpage where it was reserved. . .

um...

". . .thank you, and have a nice day!"

okay....

um...


hmmm...

'does that sound fishy to you?' says mr. petite on our way out the door.
'very, i answer, and i'm calling the credit card company as soon as we get in the car.'

mr petite is far calmer than i am at this point.

and, once in the car, while i franticly fish for my credit card, he simply calls the phone number listed on the web page confirmation print out...

and gets a recording; "our offices are open monday - friday from 9am - 5pm, if this is an emergency or you need further assistance please call 1-000-123-4567"

he doesn't even have to ask the question because i can hear the recording and am already saying CALL IT! while at the same time dialing the credit card hotline number on the back of my card.

so, while i am pressing the buttons the automated credit card system is demanding, he is dialing the number he was given....

and again he gets a recording; "....you have reached the offices of Stock Broker X and Associates...."

now we're both saying; what the?!?

and he says, maybe i got it wrong?  and proceeds to call the first number again and as the emergency number is rattled off we both write it down. again he dials, again he reaches Stock Broker X and Associates....
and still he thinks out loud that maybe he'd dialed it wrong....

all my money and my gut says he didn't. 

by now my credit card has an alert posted and says they will call me if any charges from this hotel come through and will dispute said charges on my behalf if by chance they don't catch it and/or it comes in as something different...

and in the awkward adrenaline filled what the hell just happened silence afterward mr. petite quietly asks if i want to try to find another place to stay.

but right now i think we are dissapointed, exhausted and too close to home to try this twice in the same day.

we almost made it out of the parking lot before the laughter started.

Murphy's MS. PETITE'S law