Oh dear, this one is hard to write. This trip has kicked my butt every since I got here. Unrest till the bitter end. It only lets up when I stepped on the airplane to leave.
But I’m getting ahead of myself here. When I woke up, the fact that I am leaving hit me. No amount of creative financing on my part will let me stay at least one more day. I’m doomed. So I commence packing. OMG, I have a lot more than I started with! So I sit on the floor with a pile of everything that is mine surrounding me and my suitcase. This is an activity that I do not relish! Somehow, with great concentration and effort, I get everything in. I even loaded up my computer/camera bag with as much as I could!
Okay, good. There it is … and as I turn around, I see my new perfume (in purple tissue paper) (my winnings for the Salem photo contest I might add) sitting there on the nightstand. 
Oh well, I’ll just put it in my purse. I want to use it after I shower anyway. I leave the rest of my Hurricane Sandy supplies for the maids.
So I shower, spritz and dress and make my bumbling way down to the front desk to pay. Turns out … remember when I told them NOT to charge it to the Credit Card on file (which belonged to my good friend)? “Charge it to my Debit Card, pweeze!” So they give me a ridiculously low bill to pay. I look up confused expecting the bill to be much higher. And the lady says, “Oh, when you checked out Sunday (to go to the airport), we charged the bill to the Credit Card on file. When you returned that same day and checked back in, well, we opened it again with the same Credit Card (smiling).” So there it is. They charged the WHOLE BILL to my friend’s Credit Card! That is not what I wanted to happen! I promised my friend that that would not happen! But there it is. Another dark cloud over this trip.
So my ride arrives and believe it or not, the ride was uneventful all the way to the airport! I can’t believe it! Hoping that I will end this trip on a peaceful note, I go into the airport. Hmmm, line’s not too long, not like the other day at least. I check in, pay my baggage check fee (highway robbery) and head on over to Security.
I begin to move through Security but as I get my computer bag and purse and shoes up on the conveyor, I hear the guard say, “No liquids over 3 ounces. No liquids over 3 ounces.” I stop in my tracks and think, “My perfume?” I reach into my purse to look at my perfume. It’s 4 ounces. I say to the lady, “But my perfume is 4 ounces.” She coldly replies, “Sorry ma’am, you will have to throw it away.” I stare at her all wide-eyed with disbelief. “But I can’t throw it away.” “You can’t take anything over 3 ounces aboard the plane, ma’am, now move along,” she retorts. I think she is enjoying this. I again try, “But I can’t believe you won’t let me. It’s just an ounce for cripes sake.” She offers, “Do you have a friend here that can come get it?” “No, no friends, here or anywhere for that matter.” “Well, you can go back and check it,” she tries. I look down at my perfume in my hands as she interjects, “Ma’am, you will have to move along. You are holding up the line.” By this time, I’m in tears and all of these people in line are watching …. even enjoying … the whole fucking ordeal. I look at the guard while holding my perfume as she says once again, “The trash can is right there.” I turn and look and with my heart completely broken, I walk over to the trash can and drop my perfume in purple tissue paper, my winnings from the Salem photo contest, into the trash can. That is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. Those fucking certificates laid around my room for fucking 2 years! For 2 years I had to keep tabs on those certificates so I would be sure not to lose them. I so looked forward to coming to Salem to spend them. And now this. If you would have told me 2 years ago that I would end up having to throw my winnings away, I would have been shocked and dismayed.
So I move on enduring the rest of the hoops that Security makes you jump through. I then sit down to put on my shoes and arrange my bag. I am really trying not to cry. I see tears dropping on my shoes as I put them on. I am so damn mad. I haven’t been this mad in a very long time. And then, as I sit there fussing with this and that all the while seeing my tears drop on my shoes and bag, I hear the Security lady saying something over my head, “I’m really sorry about that.” I don’t even look up. I don’t want her to see I’m crying and wishing more than anything to close my hands around her throat and …. she moves on. “Good decision because you got one pissed off bitch here entertaining the idea of your demise.” Somehow an apology doesn’t make it better.
I understand it was my fault out of my own ignorance. This is one of the downfalls of traveling alone. There is no one there to watch over you and tell you your mistakes. I did know there was a restriction on liquids but it had completely slipped my mind. Well, I guess someone out there got a nice bottle of perfume wrapped in purple tissue paper. You can’t tell me that they don’t go through those trash cans and pull out the good stuff. Yup, someone out there got my winnings for the Salem photo contest. I got nothing.
Now as I move on to find somewhere to sit, I am inconsolable. I sit there and cry in front of God and everybody right there in the Boston airport. I don’t care who sees me cry. I just cry. My heart is broken. That photo contest was the one thing I did good in my life. It wasn’t first place because that’s the story of my life but it was a good 2nd place out of about 1,000 photographers. And the postcard … the postcard for God’s sake! All gone and I notice this one lady across the way really watching me intently. I met her eyes 2 or 3 times and I’m thinking that maybe she will come over and comfort me is some way. But no, that’s ridiculous to think, she just sits there and stares at me.
As I cry, I decide to call Jason. I am completely shattered and my voice is broken as I cry. When I hear his voice, I cry even harder. Do you do that? Well, I do. It’s hard to speak. He immediately freaks upon hearing me. He thinks something horrific happened to me … and something did! But when I tell him I had to throw my perfume away at Security, I can hear the relief in his voice and he laughs incredulously and says, “Your perfume? This is about your perfume?” I can barely talk but I try to explain it to him. It’s the principle of the matter. The perfume was the winnings from something I was very proud of myself for – the Salem photo contest! So Jason says, “Okay, I’ll buy you another one.” And somehow that makes me feel a bit better. I tell him, “No, I’ll buy it.” I realize I’ll have to live with yet another disaster on this trip for the rest of my life.
Finally, it is time to board the airplane. As I enter the jet-way, I feel relief and I’m glad to be out of there. No tearing myself away now. I can’t get away fast enough! I count every minute of that flight and I am the first to stand up when the airplane stops. Get me the fuck out of here!
As I sit and wait for my ride home from the airport, I go over the trip in my mind. I see that I never should have gone on this trip. I should have stayed home. I realize that all of it was my fault. The whole trip was my failure to know all the things that I should and to prepare and use good judgment. Really? Me? Ha!
Love you all,
Janet
Afterthoughts – Strange thing this. My very first day in Salem 2009 concerned an experience with fragrance and the very last chapter on the last day I stayed in Salem yet again concerned my experience with fragrance. Don’t know if this really means a thing or is some weird cycle in my life. Oh well, I guess I’ll know after I die.
And they quit making that particular perfume, I can’t find it anywhere now. It figures…..
…….. and I waited 3 hours for my ride to pick me up at the Airport. Geeezzzz, is there an end to this madness?
Nope, I guess not! A dog chewed up my beautiful witch’s hat. I’m done!
See you later, spookies!
And then, when I picked up the Salem 2011 Tourist Guide, they used another one of my photos there as well! You can see that at the top of this blog as well! It’s the one with the little orange house. 
As you can imagine, I was totally shocked and surprised. I never dreamed anything like that would happen!
And it dawns another new day in Salem, Massachusetts. The day before Halloween and all seems to be well. As I look out the window, everything is unchanged although that bright sunlight is clearly not necessary. I shield my eyes and walk away from that window. It looks like the tail-end of the storm out there. The sun is trying to break through the clouds. At this point I feel like Bela Lugosi throwing his arm up to shield his eyes to protect himself from either the sun or a crucifix. It just dawned on me that I don’t think I’ve ever actually written the word “crucifix.” Hmm, idle minds, busy fingers . . . oh hell, I don’t know.
Very nice to be walking outside today. I don’t see any storm damage at all. The beautiful Friendship is right where she was and looks simply splendid. This shot here, well, I’ve literally seen hundreds of these. For photographers this building is perfectly placed for beautiful photos. Perfect angles, rule of thirds! And here’s one of mine! On second thought, there does seem to be some new wood on this building. Damage indeed? Oh and here, this lady told me to take a picture of her dog. She didn’t ask me, she told me. “Here, take a picture of my dog.” Alrighty.
He gives me this, “if I smile, my face will crack” sort of look as I gently lay my treasures before him. I am now full on staring at him, looking for some sign of life and look … yes, there it is! A full on bona fide glance up in my direction! Oh, I feel so special, so, so lucky! He rings me up in silence and then actually tells me how much I owe him. And, and could it be? A shadow of a smile plays across his mouth. Oh, I just shiver all over at this . . . and hand him a bill or two. He makes my change, places my treasures in a little Halloween bag and almost, what? He, yes, I can almost see it! And with great effort put forth, the man mumbles, “Thank you,” with just the touch of a smile again playing around his lips. And that’s it. That’s all I get. I can actually see the curtain close across his eyes. I’m so out of here, after-life kid!
I look up to see where the cash register is. I don’t see it. I can’t see out of the aisle I’m in so I step over into what looks like the main aisle and I still don’t see it. I only see the door leading out. I figure I’ll find it soon enough and I continue to marvel at the actual condition of this place. It’s really filthy in here and suddenly this odor assails me. I noticed it when I entered. I figured it would just go away like all good odors do but this one? No dice. It’s not going anywhere. It’s staying right here and it’s getting bigger. I mean bigger, bigger and bigger. Not sure I can take this but I continue on looking at book titles stacked all the way to the ceiling, way over my head. There’s a few pathetic paper signs hanging here and there telling subjects and such but what a pitiful effort it is indeed. And now whilst dealing with all this, I suddenly hear very loudly a “Jesus-freak” outside on the Mall with his bullhorn full-on telling me that I’m going to fry if I don’t accept Jesus as my Savior. Oh must I deal with this too right here, right now? How much more can I take at this moment? This guy’s horn sounds like he’s standing right in the doorway of this freaky-ass bookstore! I retreat back more toward the back of the store and put a few thousand books between me and the religious, yelling man outside. I look for the proprietor of this place to see his reaction to the unrest but this dude is old, I mean very old. Not much help there! So I continue to fall back more toward the back of the store to get away from that horrid noise! But then, now the odor has become a full-on stench! There’s a back room back there and the stench is very strong the closer you get to it. At this point, I look down and to my surprise (hee!), the floor looks like it hasn’t been swept in probably 30 years or so. Lots and lots of dust-bunnies but not your normal dust-bunnies these! No, no, no, no, no! These are full-grown little evil looking sons-of-bitches. These are not cute! They’re full grown and looking for some ass to kick. Yup, and do you want to know another little unpleasantry about dust-bunnies? Well, do you know what dust-bunnies really are? They are not dust, they are human skin! We shed our skin and it collects into dust-bunnies! Truth! But now, as I draw near to the mysterious back room, I stop dead in my tracks. The stench, the stench has now become so strong! Let me tell you about how it smells. Ok kiddies? It smells like must, yes, there’s that. Must, must, musty old must. 80-year old must, coupled with just pure on, hell ya, stinky, stanky ass smell! Ass that has not been washed in, well, ever. Let me say, it just ass stinks. Mixed with musty, must and it’s strong! As I really hope it’s not coming from their bathroom, I shrink away, moving back toward the front. Whoops, wrong turn but I found where you check out, I think. It’s this tiny opening in stacks and stacks of ceiling-high books. Just a small slit of an opening. You peek through it to see the clerk taking your money but you can’t see him because the slit is so thin. You just have enough room to shove your money through and wait for your change and receipt to be shoved back at you. Now I only observe this because I did not buy anything in the store. Try though as I may, I never saw a single book I wanted. I didn’t want to ask for a book that was tied down up in the stacks. I figured it’s just too much bother, too much trouble. And the stench, well, I just have to go. I am the hell out of here. I wave and wink at the Jesus-freak as I go by. Ah, hell, I don’t know why. I’m sure he gets tired of people hating on him just like he hates on people. Somehow that 80s song “Round and Round” by Ratt comes to mind. “Round and round, what comes around goes around, I’ll tell you why, dig . . . .” Okay out, thank the Lord that sits atop this madhouse, I’m out.
On to the wine-tasting . . . and I missed it by a few minutes but the girl is still there and tells me about the wine that she’s pedaling of which I might add, is still sitting right in front of her … still open. Now you’d think she would have snuck a thimble-full to me but no, nada, nothing. I browse around for awhile but damn it I wanted that little taste of wine. I wanted it bad. Funny, I don’t even hardly drink but I guess my ego still wants it. I mustn’t ever be told no, I can’t have something because you can bet your sweet ass that I will want it! So I buy a bottle of wine for myself. So there, see?
Okay, tomorrow is Halloween and what a Halloween treat is this house! It’s actually quite hard to believe that I’m in Salem, Mass, the Halloween capital of the world! But there it is and I suppose I should get some rest this evening. I’ve walked a lot today, as always in Salem. That’s half the fun, right? I go to the cemetery to hug my tree and tell it good night. I love my tree.
My Salem Happenings 