The last thing I was looking for during my research studies in the US was a man, I mean a boyfriend…. What are the chances of meeting a boyfriend when you spend your time locked in an archive room, or meeting gentle man when you are sitting on a bench in an old T-shirt, smoking cigarettes and have dirty feet in sandals from all the sand? Well, not very high… But that day, a friendly and talkative man sat next to me on the bench. He seemed to be a real Gentleman. After a few short conversations, we began to talk more regularly. It was easy because he had booked the same hostel in Washington. After some time, my neighbor was supposed to travel to Philadelphia. If I remember correctly, that was his last stop before returning to Western Europe, where he lived. At the weekend, the time I do not spend in the archives, I booked a ticket from Washington to Philadelphia to visit him. I could not pass up the opportunity to talk to the gentleman again. I took a small bag with me. It contained my laptop, a few books, a T-shirt, a towel, socks and a pair of shoes just in case, and of course a toothbrush and toothpaste. Not much more… but enough for two days. Still, my bag was pretty heavy… even though I had left the rest of my clothes and books for my 14-day stay in the US at my hotel in Washington, DC. By 10:00 am, I was in Philadelphia.
I could not check in at that time as I was informed. The hotel day in Philly started at 3 pm. Worse, there was no luggage room for my bag and I was offered to leave it at the front desk. When I declined the offer, my gentleman, who had been with me since my arrival, looked at me as if I were a snotty little girl. – Do you want to carry this weight on your shoulders during our sightseeing tour? – my gentleman asked.
– No, you are going to help me – I replied angrily, because I had not expected to have to do that.
-Why do not you leave it at reception like other people do?
His biting comments made me nervous because I thought he would be on my side.
– I do not know what people do! – I replied. I just want my bag safe in the locker with a key!
– Oh M’am! – he sighed and with a roar of laughter they (I mean my gentleman and the receptionist) rejected my demand.
– Can she keep the luggage in my Locker in my room? – he asked the receptionist politely.
I think he wanted to look like a hero in front of two women.
– Yes, she replied.
Once again, I declined the offer. – At least you do not know the gentleman, I thought.
After my second refusal, the receptionist looked like we were both idiots.
– Anything else? – she asked. Wild eyes, horse snorting…
After we left the inn, my gentleman became increasingly belligerent. What’s more, he even accused me of losing face in front of the receptionist.
– You are not sticking to the script – he said nervously.
– And where is this script written? – I replied.
– Are you kidding me? Everyone has to stick to the script!
I did not reply, so my gentleman changed his tone and reminded me to stick to the script next time. – Otherwise you might be made fun of – he said. His caring tone made it clear that he was really worried… not about me(!) but about his face.
I had an answer to that:
– I have more important things on my mind and in my luggage than following the hordes!
But what I did was say: „Yes, you are right.”
I did it not as not to appear rude to my gentleman, who turned out not to be as gentle as I thought, but in the hope that he would carry my luggage during our sightseeing. Little did I know what to expect. This dream came true!
The next morning I waited at reception for him and his arm to take me and my luggage to the station. When he came down, I was in the process of checking out while a young lady next to me – was trying to check in. It could not have been more than 10.20am. The young lady said she was sorry she was early… and then asked the receptionist if she could get a key to her room just to take a shower after the long journey. To my and my ”male” surprise, her wish was granted by a male receptionist.
The script is always changing – I told my gentleman.
Yes, it’s a lottery – he replied confused…
At that moment I thought of a short story with the same title by Shirley Jackson.
Do we always follow the hordes and not question the actions? Are we not otherwise kind and gentle?
