Life with Myrtle is fun. People like Myrtle. I like Myrtle. She has fans in Denver, California, Japan, P.A. and the 'Pines. She is slowly (she's a turtle after all) being recognized all over the globe.
At Peacock they had fun with her. At Peacock they had 'fun' with a lot of my things. They rearranged my toiletries. They picked up my room, lined up my shoes, folded my underwear. Guys, guys, please....
I had to pull out the TIED UP sign, and I wasn't quite sure what that meant exactly. I was a little nervous and slept with one eye open. This was a full service resort and it was part of the Philippines. Where, in Manila, they ride around in vans that say Massage R Us. (that's true)
So, in order to let the staff into my room to clean up my room, I had to first clean up my room. Like presoaking laundry. Rinsing dishes for the dishwasher. Basting before sewing (maybe that one is out of date). Do they still teach Home Ec in school? It came up the other day, I had no idea, but guessed not.
For the most part my stay at Peacock was de-light-full. The check out process, however, traumatic. I wasn't packed, not totally. But they were checking our bags for us at the airport so I had to send it a'fore me. Which I did. But my carry on was still in shambles on the bed and beyond.
The staff couldn't leave well enough alone. They were like vultures circling a decaying carcass. This one girl came in and kept picking up each individual item and holding it up to me saying, Maam? No. NO. NO! Please, just leave it. I am not planning to check each item individually. While that would make for a lighter bag, that would be a nightmare at baggage claim.
I have no idea if I left anything. I just wanted to get OUT. I scooped up all my belongings in my arms and shoved them in my pack. I didn't even scan the room for overlooked items. Just get me out of this swarm. There's polite nice and just pain in the ass nice. I'll let you figure out which one lives in the Philippines.
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