Ireland 2: Day 22
05.01.18 | Belfast Hotel | 09:48
I woke up at 06:00, and went downstairs and at an overpriced breakfast buffet. Can I tell you- the absolute worst part of a breakfast buffet is the scrambled eggs. They always add milk to the eggs so they can stretch them further. Now the eggs don’t even taste like eggs. It’s more of a rubbery-textured egg-ish dish. Not good. Nothing against the hotel in particular, as the cooks do it all over the world.
So- I wasn’t sure I was going to tell this part of the story, because I guess what-happens-in-Belfast-stays-in-Belfast, right? Last night, before I went to bed, I was scouring the internet to try to find a massage for this morning. I wanted to get something at like 09:00, because I would have time to get back to the hotel, and get my things ready before leaving for the airport. I couldn’t find any massage businesses that were open that early. The one I did find, was all booked up for the entire day. I decided to check Craigslist (what could possibly go wrong?).
Not to sound sexist, but when I look for a massage, I try to find a male therapist. This is because I really like deep tissue… nothing against the female therapists, most of my massages I’ve had with them felt good, but not as deep as I require… before any of my feminist friends get on my case- I’m not saying girls can’t give good massages, I’ve just had better massages from guys. The add I found on Craigslist was for a Doctor David [I don’t recall his last name]. The add said he was certified in Swedish, Thai… blah blah blah…. years of experience… great client reviews… blah blah blah. So it seemed legit to me.
I respond to the add and ask him where he’s located, and if he was available in the morning. He said he was, quoted a price, and gave me the coordinates of his “office”, and his cell phone number so I could text him when I got there… this seemed odd to me. I left the hotel to find his office, at just after 08:30. Google maps told me that it was about a twenty minute walk, so that I could be there just a few minutes early.
I get to the coordinates and there’s just a bunch of houses, I don’t see any businesses. So I automatically think that the guy operates his business out of his home. No big deal. I text him and he sends me the actual address of the house, which is just down the street from where I stood. I find the house, and as I approach, the front door is open. I ring the doorbell. He texts me saying he’ll be right there, I can just come inside.
So I have all these red flags going off in my head- everything from I’m-going-to-robbed to I’m-going-to-be-raped-and-robbed to I’m-going-to-end-up-in-a-bathtub-full-of-ice-after-this-guy-harvests-my-liver. So I ignored the red flags, and just figured that I’d keep the front door open until I can get a look at the place and see if this is all legit. The door opens into a hallway, and I’m standing there… it’s wide open. Then a door into a bedroom on my left opens up and this middle-aged woman steps into the hall and she is wearing the black leather boots that lace up to her knees.
I look at her, and say, “Oh, HELL NO!” and turned around and leave the house. So the moral of this story is this: Please be careful! I lucked out because I could of easily knocked her out, if I’d have needed to- it was a smart move to leave that front door wide open. The other moral of this story: If you’re ever in Belfast, Ireland, and find yourself looking for a massage… I don’t know where you can find one, but there is a slightly plump African/Irish middle-aged S&M-looking prostitute who is open for business at 35 Tates Avenue BT9 7BY Belfast.. bitches cell phone number and is available upon request. You’re welcome.
18:27 | Warwick Hotel | 18:27
I am now back on American soil! Thank goodness I had the perfect flight from BFS to PVD. The best news, however, is the fact that my old crashpad roommate, Kyle just so happened to be one of the flight attendants working it! To be honest, I didn’t know if I would ever see him again. Thank goodness that it’s a small world, after all.
Once, Kyle was a flight attendant for Republic. After with them for a time, he decided it was time to go find work with another airline. He was hired for the reincarnation of Eastern Airlines and based in Ft. Lauderdale (or maybe Miami) for awhile. He didn’t like that experience and later got hired by Norwegian and is based somewhere in New York.
Tonight I booked a cheap hotel near the airport here in Warwick, Rhode Island. My flight from Belfast got in late enough that there wasn’t really an option of getting all the way to Salt Lake City. I could have either made it to Baltimore or Chicago, but hotels are cheaper in Rhode Island. It’s so good to be back, but I confess that I already miss Scotland. I obviously have a problem.
05.02.18 | Home | 14:41
It’s good to be sitting in my own home. I’m catching up on some stuff for work, replying to emails that I’ve been ignoring, and getting ready to unpack my bags.
I had a little bit of stupid drama when the Lyft driver dropped me off at my house. You see, I knew I didn’t bring my keys with me to Scotland. I remember specifically that I told myself to leave them hidden in my truck, under the floor mat. So, when I went to open my truck’s door, I realized that I had accidentally locked my truck doors. These keys are the only way I have of getting in my house.
After a few phone calls, I found one of my neighbors who owns a slim jim. He was able to come over and after about 15 minutes of failed attempts, he was able to unlock my door. The first thing I did was check under the floor mat. No keys. I then check the center console and the glove box. Nope!
I was upset because I really don’t want to pay for someone to come out and get me into my house. Plus I live out of town a bit, so I’m sure the guy would charge me extra for the drive. I wasn’t looking forward to that.
I used my garage door opener to get into my garage and thank goodness I hadn’t locked the door from the garage to the laundry room. I was able to get into my house! There, sitting on my kitchen table, was my keys. I guess I was so excited to leave that I just didn’t bother grabbing them. I look forward to the day when I start remember things and possibly act like an adult. That day is probably way off.
For those who have followed this adventure, I hope you enjoyed. I look forward to Scotland 7 (plans and preparation has already begun). I’m not sure when I’ll be back for Ireland 3, but perhaps that will happen at the same trip? We shall see!