Posted by Gary in Seattle from 184.108.40.206 (dialup-220.127.116.11.Dial1.Seattle.Level3.net) on jueves, enero 02, 2003 at 04:02:08 :
True story. Names have been witheld to protect the innocent:
Monday 30 Dec.2002 - Final morning in Zihua.
The final morning in Zihua is quite similar for many people. We settled our bill for our room and told our host we were going to breakfast and would return for a couple of hours rest and to freshen up before leaving at noon.
We went to Bananas and enjoyed our fruit with granola and yogurt. We again lamented how nice it was but still not quite the same as when we met Jared and Lucille there back in February.
There’s always time for a little more sightseeing and shopping. The embarcadero shops were starting to open. There would always be one more coconut mask to buy from the Krebs sisters at their Guerrero shop. There was one more and two to go along with that.
One last pass over the new bridge. Too bad it’s now covered with so much graffiti. The new cement walkway along the water with benches, new posts, rope barriers, and lighting is quite an accomplishment.
It’s very hot and the walk back seems steeper and longer. Another shower and a little rest will be good. It’s 10:00AM, just when we said we’d be back.
Rustling could be heard coming from inside our room. The maid must be cleaning. We open the door. Rather than the maid there stand two gringos! They are in their mid to late sixties. She with baggy black clam digger shorts, spindly legs, t-shirt and a scowl. He with similar frame, shorts, madras checkered traveler's shirt made popular on “Survivor” and one of those Tilly’s traveler’s hats worn by people who have a message to display about their worldliness.
They have unpacked several suitcases and clothes are spread everywhere. The table is covered with foodstuffs as well as the top of the pantry and the sink counter space. They have obviously made that important inbound stop at Comercial Mexicana. Also on the sink counter top are two personal old fashion tan colored diner style mugs and an assortment of tea bags neatly laid out. I later find the refrigerator has been stocked. They have made themselves quite comfortable.
She gives us an indignant stare and he giggles, grins, stoops over and pushes his knees together like someone in need of a toilet. I ask “What’s this?” We quickly learn she does the talking. Perhaps he’s mute. She responds “(The proprietor) told us we could come in.” I reply “But this is our room until noon.” She then says “If you have a problem take it up with (the proprietor).” I reply “We don’t have a problem, get out of our room.” In a mocking way her retort is “I can be just as ‘sweet’ as you.” They are then told “Lady, I can be a real S.O.B.! Now get out!” The man is now hyperventilating, stooping over, and we anticipate he’s going to relieve himself right there. He grins, bobs his head about, and says “Let’s leave, eh?” They gather up their clothes and cases and drag them onto the patio. She stands in the doorway and glares at us. He still giggles and stoops – perhaps he’s a hunchback. More likely his demeanor stems from being a victim of spousal abuse.
The proprietor is gone and not to be found before we leave. We strongly suspect our new acquaintances were not granted entry into our room nor would the proprietor have condoned any attempt at it. A sincere email from the proprietor later confirmed that.
This is the second time we’ve encountered similar selfish squatters. The prior occasion was at another place down the street. On that occasion we came back before check-out to find our next door neighbor had moved his cases and larder into our room. Our bags were outside. He had made himself at home and was lying on the bed.
I pity the poor soul who decides to test us for the third time.
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