Back to School with TeachErotica!

Dear Sillies,

My 8th grade History Teacher Mr. Kalan was oh so dreamy. I loved his Western wear (tight blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a handsome clean cut mustache). So, Mr. Kalan, this one's for you in gratitude for so effortlessly making me love History for one and only one year of my life.

How about you? Did you have a teacher crush? Do tell!

No Inn At The Inn, part 2

Dear Sillies, 

See last post before you read this one. Here we go:

Katie zips back towards me, as Hugh strolls behind. "There's one overflow room, so not the best," she reports, "but it's available at the Tar---. Come on, we'll take you there in my car." 

I'm at their mercy, still in shock. Silent prayer ensues. May the room have a toilet. And a bed. 

Hugh grabs my suitcase. "I'll take this for you." 

I follow them out to a dark blue, oldish Honda, packed with clothes and miscellany. Hugh sits in the back, leaving the front passenger's seat for me. A true gentleman. 

"Forgive the mess," Katie says. "I just moved here from Edmonton. It's a new job. Hugh actually works at the Tarmigan." I'd learn that this hotel, named after a bird, begins with a silent "p." Who knew there's such thing as the silent 'p'? Ptarmigan. 

Within minutes, we're at an upscale hotel on the main strip. Wow. 

"She's taking the overflow room for three nights," Katie tells Tony at the front desk. Hugh and I stand on either side of her.  

"Yes," I chime in. "I'll take it!" Desperate. So long as there's a toilet. And a bed.

Tony does calculations. Very stoically, he says, "That will be one thousand..." I don't hear the rest. Despite my jaw having dropped to the floor, and my heart remaining in a different time zone, I manage to retrieve my wallet.  

"Put that away," Katie insists, gently touching my hand. She turns to Hugh. Maybe they'll pull more strings for me. But no, Hugh pays the bill before I can do anything to stop him. The.whole.bill!

Katie hunches over to tell me, softly, "He said this is your Birthday weekend and he feels bad. He wants to pay for your stay."

"What? NO. That's far too much." More tears. "Now you're making me cry again!"

Hugh simply says, "No more tears." 

"Just enjoy the New Zealand kindness," Katie emphasizes, "and all the fun stuff there is to do. He's a handsome bartender." She strokes his cheek lovingly. "He'll be fine."

----------------------------

My Sillies, you wonder about this "overflow" room? Two comfortable beds! Full bathroom with toilet plus a bathtub! I'm a bather. Perfect, except the coffee maker doesn't work. Thankfully, I'm no coffee drinker. No complaints whatsoever. I didn't have to sleep under a tree. 

I'm forever transformed by the knowing that magnanimously loving, protective forces pervade this great Earth. They're with me (and you too). What better outcome could've ensued from finding out there's no inn at the inn?

Endnotes:

• What used to be the inn now serves as seasonal housing for Banff staffers. The former owner was negligent about tying loose ends. Don't worry, I've made a fuss to assure that it won't happen again. 
• Another seemingly coincidental nuance is that the building manager had not fixed the front door lock. I wouldn't have been able to wander in were that the case. 
• I repaid Hugh in full over the next two days. At that time, the US dollar was approximately 70% of the CAD. I'd forgotten this. Price was more reasonable than I thought.
• When this happens in the US, no problem. You find a nearby hotel. Canada follows strict laws to prohibit urban sprawl, though. People sometimes book years in advance for Banff. There's thus not enough lodging generally, especially not the second summer weekend. Yet I got a great room in one of the best hotels for three nights in peak season.  
• The rest of my trip went fabulously well, including a heavenly spa treatment and a divine Birthday dinner. 

Travel Story: No Inn At The Inn

Dear Sillies,

Last month's adventures to Canada granted many a story. This one, the most shocking and transformative.

Please enjoy.

Also and most importantly, please be and stay safe.

Lake Moraine in the Canadian Rockies - Alberta, Canada. 

I elated in every aspect of my journey, from the cute Aussie I sat next to on my flight to Vancouver; exotic Native American artifacts at that airport; Calgary's comfy, hip hotel I'd selected; a grand time with Debra She Who Seeks... 

--------------------------------------

Finally, charged by the thrill of arriving in Banff, my ultimate destination, I lugged my small but bulky suitcase up two steps to the door of Serenity Inn. They'd house me for my 3-night stay. Strangely, no sign marked the Inn, but I'd received a confirmation email just two weeks earlier. Confirmation is confirmation. Right? 

A young woman mops the floors in the kitchen to my left, as I enter. 

"Hi. Can you tell me where to check in?"

She pauses and instructs: "You need to go to the office for hotel staff."

I'm confused. 

"You need to leave!" A different female, who I don't yet see, commands. "We live here."

~My heart departs my body at some point around now.~

I look up the stairwell directly in view, as a young couple stands near its midpoint to stare down at me. She shouts again, "This isn't lodging. You need to leave!"

I push my way further into the space. "Wait. You need to know that they're using your address to steal hundreds of dollars from people." 

She descends the stairs and takes in my teary-eyed angst.  

"Go ahead and sit down. " She points at a musty, mauve couch. I'll get you some water. I'm Katie."  

"We've had this happen before," Katie tells me, as she hands me a cup of water. "That man got really mad. There was some confusion when they sold the place, but I thought that was resolved. Anyway, I work in reservations. Lemme make a phone call."

"Thanks Katie. I'm Robyn, by the way."

Katie nods then disappears.

The young man sits by me on the couch. His presence, consoling. He introduces himself and reassures me. There's an extra bed in the basement "if worse comes to worst."

"Thank you, Hugh. I know it's peak season, so I don't expect any vacancies. As nice as it is here, I'd rather not sleep under a tree." He imparts a half-grin. (Frankly, a basement bed doesn't appeal either, but at least I'd be safe.)

I tell Hugh about my Canadian ancestry, Birthday excursion, homebase in Chico, California. He's from New Zealand, I learn, and met Katie on-line.  

A few long seconds later, Hugh excuses himself, seemingly to check in with Katie...

to be continued.