It's crisis time here at the Hingsburger-Jobes. We are wending our way home from our journey and stopped again at that lovely resort to break up the hours and have a restful sleep. When we were here a couple days ago, I wrote about the beautiful bathroom. The only problem with the bathroom was that they had a long narrow table at the end of the hallway, for decorative purposes, that made the door too narrow for the chair. I mentioned this to them on the way out, figuring that the architect who designed the wide door and the designer who blocked it, never met or spoke. The woman apologized swiftly, as they do at hotels, and we were off.
On check in there was a note for me that the tables in all the rooms had been moved to increase access to the bathroom. How nice - the only form of apology that really matters is change. So we got into our room. Came down for a drink at the bar. Chatted with the bartender and other guests. Had room service. Went to bed at a reasonable hour.
Somewhere about midnight when I had to get up to use the lovely bathroom, I got the sense that Joe was awake. Well he was. He's been throwing up all night and hasn't slept a wink. He's gotten to experience the beautiful bathroom really close up. Poor guy.
So were going to wait until dawns first light and then make our way home. There's nothing much I can do to make Joe feel better except let him know that I'd do whatever I could to make it so.
Anyone seeing a black Charger pulled over to the side of the 400S this morning with a wheelchair in the back seat and the driver puking in the ditch. That'd be my man.