So here’s what happened. One night around 9:00 PM my entire house started to smell like we had set fire to 25 tires. The smell of burnt rubber was more overwhelming than the smell of nail polish in one of those cheap nail salons that has no ventilation and doesn’t clean their cuticle cutters.  Something similar had happened once before, just not as strong, and it turned out to be one of the motors in the air conditioning.  So we turned off the air conditioning in the house which was a problem because it was summer in central Florida and it’s so hot everyone’s lightheaded and a has pitt stains. Between the unbearable heat and the pungent smell that seemed to get worse even after we turned off the air conditioning, we had to get the hell out of our house and go to a hotel.

By the time we got out it was about 10 PM and the local hotel had no rooms, so we had to go to one 25 minutes away.  But first we had to wake my daughter out of a dead sleep. Now if someone wakes me out of a dead sleep before it’s time to get up, I will cut them.  I’m not one of those people that can fall asleep in like 30 seconds. I hate those people as much as I hate people who always look like they showered.  Anyway, we got to the hotel and went right to the front desk.  The guy gave us our room key and we headed up to the 11th floor. My husband was carrying Lily as he opened the room, we’re about to walk in when suddenly we hear a man’s voice scream so loudly the guy at the front desk probably heard, ‘What the fuck?!?!  What the fuck?!’  He must have said it like 4-5 times, with the volume increasing each time.  Now, it was totally dark in the room, I’m assuming the guy who was already was occupying this room was sleeping.  But whatever he was doing (or whoever he was doing) it was in the privacy of what he thought was his own room, and we had just busted in. Now this scared the shit out of me, and of course my daughter who is still asking me about the ‘scary dinosaur’ that yelled at her from that dark room.  My luck that ‘scary dinosaur’ will rear its prehistoric head and land her in therapy one day.  Now in case you’re assuming that the screaming guy is the douchebag of the day, he is not.  I would’ve reacted the same way, but probably would’ve also thrown a bedside lamp at the door, or something equally violent.  But I’ll tell you who IS the douchebag, the guy at the front desk who gave us the key to a room that was already being occupied by the ‘scary dinosaur.’ Now let me tell you something about my husband, he is a caring, extremely generous person, and in general pretty even tempered, as long as you don’t really piss him off.  If you do, he will fuck you up, verbally.  He’s Jewish, and from a young age Jewish boys usually arm themselves with fighting words in order to avoid physical fighting.  This is usually a result of the NJM (Neurotic Jewish Mother, myself being one of them) who often won’t even let their sons play football, let alone condone fighting, even in self defense. (It’s no coincidence that lots of Jews play tennis and golf). The wrath of an NJM would be 10 times worse than that any middle school bully. We went back to the front desk, my daughter was still really freaked out which upset us both so my husband let the verbal violence fly. Within 2 minutes we had a manager personally escorting us to a new room, but this time it was a large suite. Verbal violence victory for sure. However, the night in general was a loss since my daughter was up most of the night wondering what had just happened. One day when she’s actually old enough to hear word fuck, I will tell her the story of this particular douchebag of the day.

Written by Hope Grider