So there I was, alone at a big dining table set for six in a stranger’s house unsure when or if I would be joined by anyone. Fighting the urge building inside to run home with my tail between my legs I poured a glass of wine from the open bottle on the table and took one of the hors d’oeuvre Vivien must have put out before she left. The chopped meat and veggies on slices of crusty baguette topped with a bit of shredded cheese would taste great washed down with some wine but first swallow revealed the awful truth…it was liver pate’. I’m sensing a touch of symbolism here.
As I sat considering just what I had gotten myself into, a surly teenage boy walked through with a grumble in response to my hello. Since this was likely the kid Vivien had gone to fetch, I assumed I would be seeing her shortly. Not so. There isn’t a time that comes to mind when I felt so out of place and awkwardly alone. Anger at Vivien started to share space with my sense of unease, but I knew feeding that anger would not help to establish a working relationship with her once she returned. So I fed myself instead. The spicy chicken was not bad scooped up in the naan bread and the cucumber and tomato in yogurt helped to cool its burn. With food in my stomach, I hoped my situation might be easier to handle.
I was having my dinner (still alone) when a young couple walked in. Elisabeth from Long Island and Ross from South England were fellow WorkAway travelers on their last night at the inn. Thinking I would have someone to sympathize with my not very welcome feeling, they let me know they were greeted the same way on their first night and then went on to tell how great Vivien was to them, supplying a bit of understanding and a sliver of hope that things would get better.
After finishing my meal and getting to know my fellow Workaway-ers a bit, Vivien came in with her son and sat down to eat. For the most part, the conversation was between Vivien, Ross and Elisabeth since it was their last evening together. I gathered that what the two had done during their stay was to work at Vivien's campaign office in town. Talk of Bernie and future plans for the young couple (next stop was a surfing school in Costa Rico...fun!) was exhausted and so was I. We carried our plates into the kitchen. I expected to rinse them off and clean up a bit, but Vivien said she'd take care of it and would see me in the morning...I could take it easy for the first day.
So off to my hole in the wall I went. I got ready for bed, killed a few ants that had wandered in and searched for the switch to turn off the hall light which illuminated my room with no ceiling. After more than a few very frustrating minutes, Elisabeth walked past on her way to the kitchen and showed me with a compassionate chuckle what I was looking for. The switch plate was hidden behind a large cabinet shoved against the wall in a room that wasn't mine or the hallway's. With my arm fully extended and barely fitting in the space, I could just reach to turn off that light. If left to find it on my own, I never would have thought to look there. Welcome to the inn.
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