Sonja and I had one story that definitely comes to the front of the mind when asked about the trip we just had. Nearing the end, we drove from the West Coast to Edmonton to attend a wedding on Saturday. On Friday night, with some time to kill, we check into the Trailway Motor Inn and watched some of the Olympics. Once we'd relaxed from the car ride, we decided to head out for some sushi and a movie.
We took in The Dark Knight and I was blown away. The direction of the new batman movies is phenomenal. All the way back to the hotel I was geeking out on the various degrees of awesomeness that were contained within, although I'm not sure if Sonja shared my level of enthusiasm.
We arrived back at the motel, and grabbed our purchases and brought them to the door. I used the old key to open the door, and reached inside to find the light. When I couldn't feel the switch, I glanced to the wall to find it and from the chain clasp was a small bat.
I made a remark along the lines of "That's odd" and reached up to poke the critter to check for life. Just as Sonja was asking what I found so odd, I made contact and spooked the slumbering mammal from the chain. He flew out into the light, narrowly missing my torso, and then flew straight at Sonja.
Her screamed no doubt screwed with his sonar, and he circled between the two humans at the door and the coke machine. He was moving fast, and we tried our hardest to stay away from any contact. After a couple shrill shreaks, and a couple dive bombs the terrifying moment was over and our furry friend flew off into the night.
Then it got weird.
The door next to ours and a man filled the doorway. He was an older guy, his hair losing the war 10 years ago to grey and a new battle with the forehead beginning. He was larger, and obviously drunk. His intoxication was not only evident from the slurring of his voice, or the odour streaming from his room, but from the fact that he was not wearing any pants or underwear. In fact, the only thing he was wearing was a black tank top. He came out yelling, wanting to know if there was some sort of problem. For some reason my brain could not put together a bat story to tell the nearly naked man. In fact, my brain felt like it was trapped in a Pink Floyd video.
Through the open door I went, assuring him that everything was fine. He managed to keep the conversation, or at least his end of it, going stammering about a domestic dispute. We both kept telling him that everything was fine, all the time making a very conscious effort to not look at him in any way. Oblivious to our desire to the the conversation, as well as the fact that he was in fact indecently exposed, he stayed in the doorway while we quickly put a plan in motion to get the hell out of there.
In the space of ten minutes we had retrieved all the stuff from the room, received a refund from the manager, and painstakingly talked an obese drunken exhibitionist from the doorway. While we were driving about looking for another hotel, I asked Sonja if she had a pen and paper so I could write down what happened, because I knew I never wanted to forget it.