My colleague, friend, co-conspirator, how-to-raise-a-son guru, and fellow make-lemonade-out-of-lemons chick, Olivia, and I got called to the middle of the woods remote, Maine on a matter. Did I mention this place is remote? As in, while I was trying to find the rallying point I rolled up to a gate with a guard shack at the end of the road. The gate was closed so I was planning to ask the guard for directions (zero cell coverage) but there was no guard inside. Just a sign that read…Canada beyond this point. Oopsie, time to turn around.
So, at the end of day 1 (late, dark and HOT), the entire team (about 20 people total) travel 30 minutes to the nearest hotel where our office had secured rooms for everyone. Upon checking in, we noticed that fans are being handed out. FANS. It was easily 100 degrees out and a musty, humid 100+ indoors. We were told the hotel is considered “rustic”, “quaint” and “charming”…code words for old without air conditioning or TVs. We all received keys (yes, an actual key, not electronic) and went off to get some sleep.
Olivia and I met for breakfast bright and early, headed to the rallying point, got our assignments and went about our day. On day 6 of this routine, we got an urgent message to return to the main rallying point. (At that point, our office had erected a cell tower so we could all communicate – thank goodness!) We were told that we had to provide critical information to someone ASAP. Ok, will do. We were on it.
We hopped into Olivia’s work car – a Chevy HHR. Now, no offense to anyone who may have voluntarily opted for this as their car, but we HATED these cars. They look like hearses and when you are in a job where you may be called upon to provide sad news, this is not a good look. But it was a company car and got the job done so who was I to complain? Off we rolled.
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| (not our actual car but you get the idea) |
Olivia was the driver, I was in charge of the GPS and keeping our boss updated as to our whereabouts and if we had accomplished our task. A bit of pressure. We were off to a good start as we were given an actual address (as opposed to what we had been dealing with all week, “oh, you need to go where? Ok, that’s past the old bait and tackle store…go left at the dairy barn…..that’s Jimmy’s old gas station…” etc. etc. - none of which still had structures or addresses) AND the GPS actually had the address.
I was looking at the GPS, shouting out next steps and responding to emails/texts when Olivia asked if I was sure that we should be turning left just then. I looked at the GPS and said yes then we travel a mile before the next turn. She said ok, and carried on. I continued with my emails when she asked again if she should keep going. I said yes, the GPS says to keep going and we are in a rush so step on it. She told me the road had turned to dirt so questioned if she keep going. I looked up. It was a road, just a dusty, dirt road. Seemed normal for out in the woods, remote Maine so I said yes and we rolled on. A minute later, Olivia stopped. Without looking up, I told her we had to go .2 miles, turn right and we would be at the destination. She chuckled, told me to stop emailing and look up. We were in a cow pasture. As in, out my window, touchable, was a cow. We were parked on grass. There were trees in front of us.
Refusing to believe the GPS had steered us wrong, and in a panic that we didn’t have time to go back, find a new route, and make our deadline, we got out of the car, walked to the tree line to see if we can somehow bust through it. Well, the trees were at the top of a steep ravine so that was a negative. We actually contemplatedleaving the car, hiking down the ravine and walking the rest of the way. We were already dusty, sweaty and hot so why not abandon our car, slide down a ravine and walk. Very professional. Not.
Then we regained our sanity, hopped in the pseudo hearse, peeledout of the grassy pasture and found where we needed to go. We accomplished our task, returned to our car, and started cracking up at the notion that we had actually considered ramming our car through the trees.
By that point, everyone was told that their work was done and they could go home. Everyone checked out of their rooms. We decided to have a group dinner together then hit the road. As dinner finished up and everyone walked to their cars, our boss said, “oh no, you two need to stick around to handle a matter in the morning”. So we made our way back to the hotel.
We approached the front desk and the clerk said, sorry, no rooms available. Umm, hello….20 people had checked out like 4 hours ago….what did he mean no available rooms? He explained they put an ad on some discounted site, selling rooms for $45 for that night to fill our rooms and they sold out. The next closest hotel was an hour away. I tried to get on my cell but when everyone left, they took the temporary cell tower with them so I was back to no service.
On the verge of crying and screaming. Olivia and I begged, there must be SOMETHING they can do otherwise we were going to have to sleep in our cars. The manager came over and said, he had 1 room. We would have to share. We said fine, we will take it. He then said it is the honeymoon suite. Lordy. He told us it had a window air conditioner so no need for a fan…..sold. We agreed to take it.
We took our key and entered the honeymoon suite. We knew it is the honeymoon suite because there was a big sign above the door and it was just off the lobby. It smelled. There was shag carpet. Pink shag carpet. A dresser sat in one corner. It had a mirrored front and the rest was covered in the pink shag carpet. There was a heart shaped Jacuzzi tub next to the bed. The bed. Oh, the bed. It was up 3 small shag covered stairs, like on a pedestal in the middle of the room. It was round. A faux fur bedspread covered it. We flopped down on it LAUGHING and looked up to see a giant mirror above the bed.
When morning arrived, we stepped out of the honeymoon suite to find people smiling and nodding at us. It was odd but we figure it was because our place of work was emblazoned on our shirts. And then, as I sipped coffee and ate French toast, an elderly woman came up to us and said how lovely to see us “in all our unashamed glory” and that she supported love of any kind. That is when Olivia and I realized, people thought we were newlyweds. And even though we weren't it was refreshing to know that the people out here, in the middle of the woods, remote Maine, would have been accepting of us.
