Meet The “Hostiles”!

No, this isn’t a LOST post, but rather a portrait of the all-too typical traveling family.

These people wake up pissed off.

Grandpa started the ball rolling…

HOSTILE GRANDPA: (Approaching bell Desk and heading straight for the back room) I’m just going to take a cart, okay fellas?

As you may have surmised by now, my two colleagues and myself were not okay with that.

THE HOOK: We can certainly help you, sir –

HG: But she said I could take one!

THE HOOK: Who did, sir?

I needed to know just who to throttle!

HG: The girl at the Front Desk.

Of course, he didn’t know her name (they never do!) and no one claimed responsibility for sending this schmuck our way. So I sent him on his way with instructions to call us at the appropriate time. He did so fifteen minutes later and requested two carts, for two rooms with two cars.

So I called for both cars, rolled two carts to the rooms and then I got to meet the rest of the Hostile Family, all fifteen of them!

• The Little Hostiles were tired, cranky and bouncing off the walls – literally in one case!
• The Dads were your typical layabouts, disinterested in their own families. Not that I blame them!

Turns out I actually brought these people in when they originally arrived, so Grandpa knew better than to try to retrieve his own cart.

HOSTILE DAD #1: (No acknowledgment of my presence, he simply reaches for one of the carts and attempts to roll it into his room) I’ve got this one, dad! Take the other one into your room!

HOSTILE GRANDMA: I think the guy does it, dear!

HD #1: (Sighing and shaking his head) Okay, if he has to…

But rather than allow me to enter the rooms, assess the number of bags and load the cart accordingly, they formed a line and passed me the bags. It slowed down the entire process, especially when they starting arguing with each other over what to give me. We finished one room but then the rest of the Hostiles didn’t seem to eager to leave…

HD #1: Are you guys coming?

HOSTILE DAD #2: What?

The rooms aren’t that big! He should have been able to hear his fellow Hostile easily.

HD #1: (Shouting unnecessarily) We’re loaded up! Are you ready to go?

HD #2: We have to load up first!

As you can well imagine, I was praying for Death to walk through the door and smite this entire clan. But Death obviously felt that would be too easy.

We loaded both carts beyond their capacity and there were still bags to be carried! So the Hostiles loaded themselves up, begrudgingly, naturally, and met me downstairs on the valet deck. Hostile Dad #1 had insisted he be allowed to roll one cart down himself, but I politely refused, although I did allow him to roll one cart to his truck once we were outside.

This actually made him smile – until he realized he had to unload the cart and fit all that crap in there somehow. I could have offered some assistance, but I was busy with the other half of the clan. He actually broke a sweat, but eventually his Hostilemobile was loaded and he came over to totally blow my mind with four crisp Canadian fives.

I said they were hostile, I didn’t say they were cheap.