Okay, up, my last day in Salem . . . and boy, is it!!! Things are not going so well right out of the shoot! What a disaster! Why do I have to make everything so difficult? I hate packing!
I’m excited to be flying to New York from Salem but how strange that I’m not staying in Salem for Halloween! In the past, you could not drag me away from Salem on Halloween! I guess I’m thinking Halloween weekend might just be more exciting in New York but since having the final altercation with the Bitch Maid at the Hawthorne, I’m just done. It’s been five years since I’ve been to Salem and granted, I only had three days. You just can’t do Salem in three days, BUT these three days have been hard on me. So let’s start with packing. No organization, I just shove it in, squishing fingers along the way. Got it all in and now I’m ready and the shit begins.
Unknowingly, by not having the maids in my room for the last three days has caused them to suspect me of stealing towels. Towels? Towels?? I didn’t have the maids in because I was EXHAUSTED when I got here and I slept. Slept in my room for three days. It’s my room. I paid to be in it, right? Anyway, here’s what happened. I roll on out of the room and I see a gaggle of maids ahead of me. Out steps one, very authoritative, looking me in the eye and announces to me that I’ve had no maid service while I was here. I look at her, quite friendly and polite on my part, and say, “Yes.” I’m actually a little afraid of her. She looks like one mean bitch and she’s obviously unhappy with me. I would call her a witch but I RESPECT WITCHES, not her! I continue to be very polite and move away from her. I do not engage her. As I walk away, she issues an order to the other maids to COUNT THE TOWELS IN MY ROOM. Count the towels? Are you kidding me? Is that all you got? I still do not engage her. I know her for what she is. There will be a day when I want to come back to Salem and stay at the Hawthorne Hotel and this ignorant bitch is not going to ruin that for me. Engaging her would have caused a huge shit storm and I refused to go there with her. I just walked away. I hope she’s happy. All my used towels are stacked up neatly on the bathroom floor. Every single one of them. For God’s sake, why would I want to steal towels from the Hawthorne Hotel? I have stayed many times at the Hawthorne. Why would I steal from them? I like them very much. I do not need their towels and I appreciate them enough that I didn’t even think to steal from them. They have been good to me over the years. Why would some petty-ass power-hungry bitch even think that I would steal from the Hawthorne? I didn’t even think of it over the years. I am a honest person. I never steal from anyone! I am honest to a fault. I do question the motives of the bitch though. I really do.
So I check out of the Hawthorne. I am very hurt and upset but I leave without a complaint. I just leave my beloved Salem and the Hawthorne. I’m in such a dark mood and I’m just plain mad. I don’t remember getting to the airport. I do remember boarding the plane and feeling bleak all the way to New York. I didn’t know I’d feel this way on my way to New York. I thought I would be excited and happy but no. The bitch maid from hell made sure of that. One last note, when I arrived in New York, it literally took three hours for me to get from the airport to my hotel. Three hours to go 9.7 miles… and the hotel doesn’t have my room reservation. Oh dear, here we go. . . Luvs, Janet