Writing My Life

Now and Then

… they call me Amelia for a reason …

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I’m not talking “Amelia Bedelia” here – although I own a few characteristics of that fictional character, but I’m thinking of Amelia Earheart, the avitrix who disappeared some 80+ years ago over the Pacific. Why? Because it’s true. I have NO sense of direction. None whatsoever. Of course that does not stop me from giving people MISdirections or from striking off on my own. But today was the worst: I couldn’t even find my way out of my hotel.

My colleague, a walking GPS kind of person, decided to go to the LDS temple here in Boston. It’s not that I am not as devout as Carolyn – which happens to be true, I’m not – it’s just that I am visiting this great city for the first time in my life. And while I enjoy temple worship,  I can do that back in Utah.

Soooooooooo Carolyn and another colleague from another district headed off in one direction while I buddied up with still another colleague from a neighboring district. Since my hotel was closer, we decided to dump our junk in my room on the 29th floor and head out to Boston Commons. BUT when we got to my room, the key card failed to open the door.

“Oh NO,” we exclaimed. “The key must have been de-magnetized!” My friend – at least I hope she is still my friend – volunteered to wait at the door with our tonz o’ stuff while I returned to the desk to get a new key. When I returned to the 29th floor, NO ONE was there. Not my friend, not my bags of educational materials, not my purse that housed my phone and my computer. GONE. VANISHED. DISAPPEARED.

For 45 minutes I searched and wondered where in the heck she could have gone? Did she go down to Carolyn’s room? No, I checked but found no one there. I even called her name as I searched the hallway. Did she pass out and then taken to  first aid station by the housekeeping team? No. Did she return to the lobby? I went up and down that elevator several times to see, but to no avail. Did she find her way back to my room? No, again I returned to the room to double check and finally left a note telling her I’d be in the lobby near the computers.

Back in the lobby, I tried to get on the Internet at the computer station, thinking I could email her. (She can access her account on her phone.) At that point, I was seriously thinking about the alien abduction theory. In fact, I thought of every conceivable idea EXCEPT for the most logical one: I left the poor woman ON THE WRONG FLOOR.

We originally stepped off the elevator at the 15th floor on our way to the 29th floor because the doors opened. No one was waiting there to jump on, and I didn’t notice the light momentarily flash to indicate what floor we were on. I didn’t notice the room number on the plaque NEXT to the door said 1563. I didn’t even THINK that perhaps my key didn’t work because I WAS ON THE WRONG FLOOR.

My loyal friend had waited and waited and waited until exhaustion overcame her and she lugged ALL the books and bags down to the lobby where she begged a clerk to confirm my room number, which he would not. Instead he called my room and handed the phone to her. Because I was in the lobby at the time of the call, I did not receive it.

At that point, our paths finally crossed. She was exasperated as well as exhausted, and I can’t blame her. “Amelia” couldn’t even get us out of the hotel. My frustrated friend said good bye and headed for the safety of friends who know where they are staying and how to get in and out of hotel rooms.

After that MISadventure, I wandered the streets of Boston looking for Fenway Park, home of the Red Sox. I eventually found it – in the dark. The ballpark’s exterior was great. Sigh.


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Author: rbs

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One thought on “… they call me Amelia for a reason …

  1. 😆 This could happen to me! While it’s extremely annoying for years, it’ll make a good party story for the rest of your life. I have my own “wander forever on the streets of Boston story”!

    Tried to comment on yesterday’s post, but kept losing it (the field settings) and gave up. Wanted to say 3 things I loved about Boston. The glass flower museum at MIT, and the Boston Public Gardens where the duck incident occurred that inspired Make Way For Ducklings, and incidentally the pub that inspired the TV show Cheers. I agree with you–you can go to church at home, where everybody knows your name! Keep on having fun!

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