This was an e-mail I sent to the two girls who's house I had been staying in in Quito. They left me their place as they head north to go travel in Colombia, and I was meant to leave the same night heading south to my next stop on the way ultimately back to Santiago.
The timing of the plan ended up changing considerably.
---------- End of Forwarded message ----------
I actually managed to make another appointment the same day at 12:30, a few hours after I sent this message. As I was waiting outside, two other American girls who just moved into this same building asked me what I was doing...
"Would you believe I'm waiting for a vacuum cleaner? Going on six days, now..."
That said, at 4PM, a couple of guys I called while waiting for my bus that night, my 9th and final attempt, actually came through, bringing along with them a device which seemed to be powered by a small nuclear reactor. I welcomed the overkill, and the house now looks totally new.
---------- Forwarded message ----------
Subject: Seemingly simple luxuries I've taken for granted...
Alternative subject: ...really??
Subject: Seemingly simple luxuries I've taken for granted...
Alternative subject: ...really??
At least the lady showed up this morning - on Wednesday, aka day 6 - and on time, no less... But I really thought yesterday was going to be the one.
This all started last Friday, October 8th, when two beautiful women left their beautiful home to me. I had a simple idea that I figured I could possibly pull off before leaving that night - or, more likely, requiring me to delay my post-Quito plans by one day - in order to try and show a small token of my gratitude for their unceasing awesomeness. What's one more day?
That was day 1. And mistake 1.
I managed to make an appointment with someone called Santiago to come help me on Saturday afternoon, still giving me plenty of time to catch that night bus. So, I stuck around an extra day, a bit worried at getting 'caught' overstaying my agreed upon time in the house, but confident that it would be worth it. I called Santiago about an hour after he was supposed to have shown up only to have him tell me that no, he couldn't make it that day.
...
So, I found someone else to come on the following day. What's one more day? On Sunday morning, day 3, the exact same thing happened, but I managed a quick recovery and got another appointment for that afternoon... who also didn't show up.
.....
Many more calls later, either to companies that wanted to charge me 45$ for the service, or people who couldn't for timing reasons, I resorted to CouchSurfing, which I didn't want to post on for fear that someone the girls knew might read it and reveal the awkward fact that I was still in their house a couple of days after I was supposed to have left.
One girl responded and said she could come on Tuesday and help me. So, what's a couple more days, at this point?
On Monday, I make the awkward confession of my ridiculous failure to leave the city, not to mention the house, to the aforementioned beautiful women. Kelly took it very well. Lindsey hasn't spoken to me since.
The Les Misérable song "One Day More" was stuck in my head as I walked around aimlessly that afternoon.
During my walk, I encountered a friendly lady in a bakery who told me she would be happy to lend me what I needed - she made a point of stating that she actually had three of them, so it really wasn't a problem at all - except that she lived too far away and wasn't coming back to town, and was apparently only speaking as some sort of taunting hypothetical...
On Tuesday, an hour before the CS girl was supposed to show up, she sends me a message saying "I'm running a bit late, but I'll be there. I promise." No problem!
Except that she never showed up.
.......
Since I keep expecting the next day's appointment to actually happen, and I don't want to be cancelling on people last minute (foolish?), I never made any 'backup' plans. So, again, I was five days in, and I had nothing.
Sigh.
I make a few more calls (the costs of which were quickly adding up to make the 45$ service seem much less like a bad idea), and get someone who will show up the next morning.
"...another day, another destiny..."
That brings us to this morning, day 6. She actually showed up, too - what a beautiful moment of resurrecting faith in human kind when I saw her from the terrace... I went downstairs to open the door only to find that she didn't bring anything with her.
I never imagined it would have been so difficult to acquire the use of a vacuum cleaner for a few minutes...
Me: "Wait, seriously?"
Lady: "I'm here to clean the house."
Me: "And you didn't, as I had confirmed with you at least three times on the phone, bring a vacuum cleaner."
Lady, giggling: "No, I didn't bring anything with me."
Me, losing it: "MY ENTIRE CONVERSATION WITH YOU YESTERDAY WAS ABOUT NEEDING A VACUUM CLEANER. THAT IS THE SINGLE THING I WANT!"
Lady: "Well, I don't even own one."
Me: "SO WHY DID YOU FU... Goodbye."
I'm sorry, but I'm leaving tonight anyways, lest I become violent.
I tried. I really did.
I left a couple of beers in the fridge (which I have been tempted to down after just about every conversation I've had on the subject...).
I hope you keep enjoying the trip.
This all started last Friday, October 8th, when two beautiful women left their beautiful home to me. I had a simple idea that I figured I could possibly pull off before leaving that night - or, more likely, requiring me to delay my post-Quito plans by one day - in order to try and show a small token of my gratitude for their unceasing awesomeness. What's one more day?
That was day 1. And mistake 1.
I managed to make an appointment with someone called Santiago to come help me on Saturday afternoon, still giving me plenty of time to catch that night bus. So, I stuck around an extra day, a bit worried at getting 'caught' overstaying my agreed upon time in the house, but confident that it would be worth it. I called Santiago about an hour after he was supposed to have shown up only to have him tell me that no, he couldn't make it that day.
...
So, I found someone else to come on the following day. What's one more day? On Sunday morning, day 3, the exact same thing happened, but I managed a quick recovery and got another appointment for that afternoon... who also didn't show up.
.....
Many more calls later, either to companies that wanted to charge me 45$ for the service, or people who couldn't for timing reasons, I resorted to CouchSurfing, which I didn't want to post on for fear that someone the girls knew might read it and reveal the awkward fact that I was still in their house a couple of days after I was supposed to have left.
One girl responded and said she could come on Tuesday and help me. So, what's a couple more days, at this point?
On Monday, I make the awkward confession of my ridiculous failure to leave the city, not to mention the house, to the aforementioned beautiful women. Kelly took it very well. Lindsey hasn't spoken to me since.
The Les Misérable song "One Day More" was stuck in my head as I walked around aimlessly that afternoon.
During my walk, I encountered a friendly lady in a bakery who told me she would be happy to lend me what I needed - she made a point of stating that she actually had three of them, so it really wasn't a problem at all - except that she lived too far away and wasn't coming back to town, and was apparently only speaking as some sort of taunting hypothetical...
On Tuesday, an hour before the CS girl was supposed to show up, she sends me a message saying "I'm running a bit late, but I'll be there. I promise." No problem!
Except that she never showed up.
.......
Since I keep expecting the next day's appointment to actually happen, and I don't want to be cancelling on people last minute (foolish?), I never made any 'backup' plans. So, again, I was five days in, and I had nothing.
Sigh.
I make a few more calls (the costs of which were quickly adding up to make the 45$ service seem much less like a bad idea), and get someone who will show up the next morning.
"...another day, another destiny..."
That brings us to this morning, day 6. She actually showed up, too - what a beautiful moment of resurrecting faith in human kind when I saw her from the terrace... I went downstairs to open the door only to find that she didn't bring anything with her.
I never imagined it would have been so difficult to acquire the use of a vacuum cleaner for a few minutes...
Me: "Wait, seriously?"
Lady: "I'm here to clean the house."
Me: "And you didn't, as I had confirmed with you at least three times on the phone, bring a vacuum cleaner."
Lady, giggling: "No, I didn't bring anything with me."
Me, losing it: "MY ENTIRE CONVERSATION WITH YOU YESTERDAY WAS ABOUT NEEDING A VACUUM CLEANER. THAT IS THE SINGLE THING I WANT!"
Lady: "Well, I don't even own one."
Me: "SO WHY DID YOU FU... Goodbye."
I'm sorry, but I'm leaving tonight anyways, lest I become violent.
I tried. I really did.
I left a couple of beers in the fridge (which I have been tempted to down after just about every conversation I've had on the subject...).
I hope you keep enjoying the trip.
"Would you believe I'm waiting for a vacuum cleaner? Going on six days, now..."
The guy, unsurprisingly, didn't show up.
The thing is, it was really needed - suffice it to say that it was obvious the apartment didn't have access to a vacuum cleaner... like, ever. A simple vacuuming job would have literally changed the colour of the floor.
That said, at 4PM, a couple of guys I called while waiting for my bus that night, my 9th and final attempt, actually came through, bringing along with them a device which seemed to be powered by a small nuclear reactor. I welcomed the overkill, and the house now looks totally new.
At last, I feel vindicated. I never want to see a carpet again.
