Archives of Our Lives

{a narrow and broad look into the lives of people I love}

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Here's How I Lost my Faith in Humanity

The Time: Friday night, 11:00.

The Place: Side door entrance to the Hilton Garden Inn. Layton, UT.

Photo from here.

The People: Me, loaded up with beach bags full of towels and sunscreen. Poor Kyle, holding a box of leftover pizza from Boston's.
Sister, carrying everything nobody else could hold. Brother-in-Law, burdened with his fat little baby boy [who happened to be sleeping soundly under the warmth of a fuzzy green blanket].

There's no way around it--he's a fatty. And we love him.

The four of us [plus sleeping fat baby] were exhausted from our day at the water park--lazy river or not, it still takes a lot out of a person. We were sunburned and sore from our high-energy day, and parked as close to the hotel entrance as possible--which wasn't very close at all. Luckily, there was a side door entrance a bit nearer which, experience had taught, was also closer to the elevators. We walked as quickly as our aching bodies would allow, and soon reached the glass door at the side of the hotel.

Locked.

To go around front would have taken only a few minutes, but it seemed an impossible feat for any one of us--we must have looked a haggard lot.

Instead, I noticed through the glass walls of the building a man and woman coming our way, no doubt headed to the nearby elevators.

"Ooh, there are some people! Get their attention!" I urged my husband, who stood closest to the door.

He and Flint, my brother-in-law holding the fat baby boy, inched towards the windowed door and knocked ever so lightly, winning the attention of the fast-approaching couple.

The man inside--we'll call him Comb Over--was in his 30s, wearing a white polo shirt with khakis and penny loafers, and looking back, I'm pretty sure his comb over was hiding a bald patch on his shiny head. Which would have been fine with me {I, myself, am losing hair at an alarming rate}, had he not glanced our way, snarled, and flung his hand behind him, vaguely indicating we ought to go around to the front. When he could have pushed the bar-locked door open with nothing but an outstretched arm. He wouldn't have even needed to take an extra step. It could have been a walk-by opening.

He probably figured he'd get to the elevator while we trekked to the front entrance, and be in his warm cozy bed before we even got through the doors. He probably figured he'd never see us again.

Comb Over and Woman probably didn't count on the elevators being slow on account of some corporate something-or-other congestion. He probably didn't count on another, kinder gentleman opening the door for us just seconds later, letting us in right behind him. He probably never thought we'd get to the elevator while he was still standing there.

But we did.

And my sister and I married very large men. Who are wonderful except when angry. And our husbands were nothing if not angry with this jerk. (I, myself, have never had so strong an urge to label someone a jack@$$ in my life.) Mind you, Flint is a police officer who is two hundred and something pounds of sheer weight. And okay, he was holding a fat sleeping baby, which might have made him slightly less intimidating, but he still had the huevos to walk up to the guy and say, "Hey, buddy--thanks for opening the door for the sleeping baby."

To which Poor Kyle piped in, "Yeah, thanks a lot!"

Comb Over Polo Shirt said curtly, "You guys could have gone around to the front just like I did." As if he was so disillusioned with his lot in life of having to walk around, that he wanted to make every other human being suffer. Suffer like he had to suffer. Woe was him, I tell you what.

Just then, the elevator doors opened and the four of us whisked past Comb Over to claim it. Don't worry--there was plenty of room for the four of us and Comb Over plus Woman...only they weren't too keen on sharing with the likes of us.

I wonder if they were too insecure? Or maybe just too ashamed to face up to their actions...

Either way, if Comb Over ever comes across this blog at some point in his life--and he knows who he is--I just want to tell him this:

I hope you've come to terms with your baldness.

Labels:

11 Comments:

Blogger Jenny said...

You make me laugh! Thanks for sharing. I hope the rest of your trip was a bit more fun and relaxing. And your little nephew is adorable!!

July 20, 2008 at 10:54 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

hahaha. wow, what a jerk. but it makes for a funny story. i would not have the guts to tell the guy off.

July 20, 2008 at 11:13 PM  
Blogger Whitney said...

Oh my gosh! What a big fat jerk!
(there are other words I could use but I am trying to be G rated) I am mad it him just reading this post. I cant believe people these days, never willing to help! Loser!

July 20, 2008 at 11:32 PM  
Blogger Mikelle said...

Haha. I love that Clint said something to him..my husband would have done the same.

Hope you're having fun in Utah! I too love that chubby little (big) kid of your sisters.

July 21, 2008 at 6:23 PM  
Blogger The Lowry's said...

I just love reading your blog because you just say it how it is! Sounds like you had fun at the waterpark but bad way to end a good but tiring day.

July 21, 2008 at 7:28 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Millie,

Just reading this reenactment makes my blood boil all over again. Oooh. That jerk!!! I'm so proud of PK and Clint for standing up to them.

July 21, 2008 at 10:04 PM  
Blogger Alicia said...

I'm sorry you had such a bad experience, but so glad you shared it in such an entertaining way. Keep the great stories coming!

July 21, 2008 at 11:35 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I hope that was the bald guys most embarrassing moment.

July 22, 2008 at 12:55 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

oh camille i feel like i was there with you all. what a bastard to not open that door. ooooohhhhh. if anything he could have opened it because of little Pres.

by the way, i saw him yesterday. yes i, chelsie, have succomed to visiting my sudo nephew. thanks for letting me.

July 22, 2008 at 1:05 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey Camille - In hindsight, it would have been great to have someone tail combover and woman to identify their room number. Then we could have secretly tormented them and charged things to their room - just a token of what they deserved! (I wouldn't really charge things to them, but I would have ding-dong-ditched them... often.) We had a great time at the reunion with you all, but didn't really get to truly visit - isn't that the way it goes? I love your blog and have read several of your entries - they are brilliant and better than I was told they would be. YOU HAVE A FUTURE HERE BABE!!!
Love you lots!
Julie Hyde

July 22, 2008 at 9:01 PM  
Blogger Kristi Kleisler said...

Ha ha yes I am most definitly dying to go back. And this post made me chuckle!! Funny stuff.

July 22, 2008 at 9:19 PM  

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