I Can't Help You
Have I got a story for you today, but telling it requires a bit of background, as with any story.
Chris's international program was poised to take a trip this weekend to the Costa Brava, near Girona in the Northern part of Spain, roughly a 1 1/2 hour train ride from Barcelona. Thinking it would be fun to have some other friends come along on the trip, he had a little conversation with the director of his program. She thought it was a wonderful program, however she stated it was necessary that we find our own source of transportation as we would not be allowed on the bus with the rest of the group. Train was one option, but the one that seemed best which presented itself late Friday afternoon was to take a ride in Juan Miguel's car as he would be traveling there on his own. Juan Mi had no problem taking me and Denail as long as Ares came with aswell, seeing as he had never actually met either one of us. So the plan stood that we would split the gas with Juan Mi, meet the group in Cadaques, spend the night on the floor in Chris's hotel room and tag along with the group to visit Figueres and the Dali Museum.
So Daniel, Ares and I met at Plaza de Espana on Saturday and then hopped a train to a small northern village where we met Juan Miguel and piled into his car. 3 hours later we were sitting in a cafe on the Costa Brava, and with the passing of another 2 we found the group and made ourselves comfortable in the hotel room. After the night's festivities (seeing a live band for an hour in one of the local bars and then playing some very pathetic games of Speed and Egyptian Rat Screw) we passed out on the cold tile hotel room floor.
Sunday morning we woke up, dressed, and proceeded downstairs to eat breakfast. Daniel, thinking it would be polite to address the acting program director (the real director was detained from the trip at the last minute and another American woman filled in), greeted her with a "goodmorning" and asked if it were ok if we joined them for breakfast. Her response was, "well, you paid for your room, didn't you?" At that moment she realized that we were friends of Chris's who were tagging along for the excursion. When Chris was carrying his tray to claim a table she told him "We need to talk". So he sat down really quickly thinking they could work something out speedily as he could tell something was wrong.
The next thing I know, this woman is telling us that we cannot ride in Juan Miguel's car to Figueres and we may not ride with the rest of the group on the bus. We are to be deserted in a small tourist town on the Costa Brava, a full hour's drive from the next town. There is no train, and the only bus stop has no times listed. It's Sunday, in Winter, you can imagine every shop is closed along with most of the hotels. The entire village is shut down and our assumed ride is being revoked by someone who does not possess that right and we are left completely stranded.
Daniel and I walked to the bus stop to check to times, and as I just stated, there were no times posted, and so we started to walk back to the hotel. On our way back we ran into the dreadful woman again and Daniel made one final plea. "May we please at least get a ride to the next town? We don't know what time the bus comes, there are no times listed, there are no taxis in this town, nothing is open, it's freezing outside, and we don't even know how to ask for help". That poor excuse for a pathetic piece of human excrament actually said "I'm sorry, I can't help you. You're smart, I'm sure you'll figure something out".
OH MY GOD! We are in another country, we don't speak the language, we went on this trip based on the premiss that we had garanteed transportation and she is depriving us of all our assumed necessities. To a final mousey request for help she says "I'm sorry"? Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME!?
We waited at the bus stop for a little bit and then Daniel had the idea to try and hitch hike. Daniel is the type of person who gets one thought in his mind and then follows it through, without fail. The first car that drove by was a two-door jeep. It was small, rickety and I honestly would have prefered to walk than ride in that thing, but Daniel stuck out his thumb. As the car drove by the driver pointed at he car shaking his head as if it say "In this thing? Are you kidding me?" Another car drove by, Daniel stuck out his thumb, the driver stopped and we jumped into this car of a nice South American family. They drove us to the next town from where we were able to catch a bus to Figueres.
After arriving in Figueres we saw the Dali Museum and met up again with Chris and Ares, as well as Mariana. We ate lunch, said goodbye and hopped the train to Barcelona, but not before another pass badmouthing that boneless twit. THE END
Chris's international program was poised to take a trip this weekend to the Costa Brava, near Girona in the Northern part of Spain, roughly a 1 1/2 hour train ride from Barcelona. Thinking it would be fun to have some other friends come along on the trip, he had a little conversation with the director of his program. She thought it was a wonderful program, however she stated it was necessary that we find our own source of transportation as we would not be allowed on the bus with the rest of the group. Train was one option, but the one that seemed best which presented itself late Friday afternoon was to take a ride in Juan Miguel's car as he would be traveling there on his own. Juan Mi had no problem taking me and Denail as long as Ares came with aswell, seeing as he had never actually met either one of us. So the plan stood that we would split the gas with Juan Mi, meet the group in Cadaques, spend the night on the floor in Chris's hotel room and tag along with the group to visit Figueres and the Dali Museum.
So Daniel, Ares and I met at Plaza de Espana on Saturday and then hopped a train to a small northern village where we met Juan Miguel and piled into his car. 3 hours later we were sitting in a cafe on the Costa Brava, and with the passing of another 2 we found the group and made ourselves comfortable in the hotel room. After the night's festivities (seeing a live band for an hour in one of the local bars and then playing some very pathetic games of Speed and Egyptian Rat Screw) we passed out on the cold tile hotel room floor.
Sunday morning we woke up, dressed, and proceeded downstairs to eat breakfast. Daniel, thinking it would be polite to address the acting program director (the real director was detained from the trip at the last minute and another American woman filled in), greeted her with a "goodmorning" and asked if it were ok if we joined them for breakfast. Her response was, "well, you paid for your room, didn't you?" At that moment she realized that we were friends of Chris's who were tagging along for the excursion. When Chris was carrying his tray to claim a table she told him "We need to talk". So he sat down really quickly thinking they could work something out speedily as he could tell something was wrong.
The next thing I know, this woman is telling us that we cannot ride in Juan Miguel's car to Figueres and we may not ride with the rest of the group on the bus. We are to be deserted in a small tourist town on the Costa Brava, a full hour's drive from the next town. There is no train, and the only bus stop has no times listed. It's Sunday, in Winter, you can imagine every shop is closed along with most of the hotels. The entire village is shut down and our assumed ride is being revoked by someone who does not possess that right and we are left completely stranded.
Daniel and I walked to the bus stop to check to times, and as I just stated, there were no times posted, and so we started to walk back to the hotel. On our way back we ran into the dreadful woman again and Daniel made one final plea. "May we please at least get a ride to the next town? We don't know what time the bus comes, there are no times listed, there are no taxis in this town, nothing is open, it's freezing outside, and we don't even know how to ask for help". That poor excuse for a pathetic piece of human excrament actually said "I'm sorry, I can't help you. You're smart, I'm sure you'll figure something out".
OH MY GOD! We are in another country, we don't speak the language, we went on this trip based on the premiss that we had garanteed transportation and she is depriving us of all our assumed necessities. To a final mousey request for help she says "I'm sorry"? Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME!?
We waited at the bus stop for a little bit and then Daniel had the idea to try and hitch hike. Daniel is the type of person who gets one thought in his mind and then follows it through, without fail. The first car that drove by was a two-door jeep. It was small, rickety and I honestly would have prefered to walk than ride in that thing, but Daniel stuck out his thumb. As the car drove by the driver pointed at he car shaking his head as if it say "In this thing? Are you kidding me?" Another car drove by, Daniel stuck out his thumb, the driver stopped and we jumped into this car of a nice South American family. They drove us to the next town from where we were able to catch a bus to Figueres.
After arriving in Figueres we saw the Dali Museum and met up again with Chris and Ares, as well as Mariana. We ate lunch, said goodbye and hopped the train to Barcelona, but not before another pass badmouthing that boneless twit. THE END
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