Atlanta Vacation: The Tale of Butter Guy

So this last weekend, I went on vacation with my husband. He attended DragonCon, I did not. I spent the majority of the time sleeping. When I wasn’t sleeping, I either went out or most often stayed in and watched TV. Or was downstairs at the bar getting something to eat.

On Sunday, I was down in the bar having a pizza and chatting with the bartender. It was slow, and I was the only one sitting down there. I’d intended to read a new book I’d bought earlier that day as I ate, but the bartender saw what it was about and struck up a conversation.

I was half-way through my pizza when Butter Guy appeared. He came out of the elevator area carrying only an ice bucket. Remember that, it’s important later on. This guy comes up to the bar, leans forward and places an elbow on the counter. And he says, drunkenly, “Hypothetically if I came down here 12 hours ago, there would be butter.”

The bartender just sort of stares at him. I just sort of stare at him. He turns to look at me with a goof smile on his face, and continues. “Hypothetically, if I were here 12 hours ago, could you have given me some of that butter?”

Unsure of what else to say or do, the bartender nods and says, “Yeah. I could give you some butter.”

Butter Guy is ecstatic! He grins at me again as I set down the slice of pizza I was trying to eat. Butter Guy turns back to the bartender, now lowering his voice as if trying to score some sort of illicit substance. He says, “Can you get me some butter?”

The bartender, now back in familiar terriroty says “Sure. How many do you need?”

This throws Butter Guy off into the land of disbelief. He stares at me wide eyed and jaw dropping. Then gives the bartender the same expression as response. But he quickly recovers and says loudly once again, “I… I don’t know. I mean, some? Tell you what, I’ll throw out a number, and you tell me if you can get me that many butters.”

The bartender nods.

Butter Guy says, “Three.” Bartender responds, “Yes.” Butter Guy is excited, and he replies with “Four?” Once again, the bartender responds with “Yes,” and adds “I’ll just go to the back and get them, okay?”

The bartender hurries off, leaving me alone with my pizza and Butter Guy. I turn in my seat some to face Butter Guy and I say to him, “Of all the shit I’ve seen and heard this weekend, that’s just the strangest, weirdest damn thing I’ve ever heard.”

He is confused. He blinks at me as we sit in the awkward silence then says, “My room has a dishwasher. My room has a stove. We figured why not have a spaghetti party. I mean, I don’t know what the butter’s for, but we need it for something. I don’t know, but we’re having a spaghetti party. You can’t have a spaghetti party without butter.”

So, I smile as it dawns on me what the butter must be for. I say, “Oh, so you need it for garlic bread, right?”

He blinks and stares. “No. I’d remember the bread.”

The bartender returns with a handful of little individual serving packs of butter. You know the sort. The kind you get in restaurants that you have to peel back the top and can’t dig it all out with your knife, but your spoon is too large to get into the corners. And it’s never enough butter for your 2-4 pieces of toast. Mixed in with them are some Country Croc little single servings as well as some Promise brand ones, too. The bartender finds an empty plastic cup and puts them in it, then hands it to the guy.

Butter Guy puts this cup of butter into his ice bucket. The bartender asks if Butter Guy would like him to fill the ice bucket for him. Butter guy shakes his head and says he’ll get ice on the second floor on his way upstairs.

So, he thanks the bartender, says bye to me, and leaves.

You’d think that was the end of Butter Guy… but you’d be wrong…

About 5 minutes go by, the bartender and I giggle then resume our previous conversation. Then… we hear him in the elevator area. And he’s loud about it, too. He comes up to the bar, and he throws his elbow up just as before and he says “So did you guys see me leave a drink down here?”

The bartender and I look at one another. The bartender says no. I say, “All you had was that ice bucket you put the butter in.”

Butter Guy looks at us like we’ve each grown another head. “Are you sure?”

We both reply in the affirmative. Butter Guy starts looking all around the room. Even though on his quest for butter not 5 minutes earlier, he came straight to the bar and then straight back to the elevator. He comes back to the bar, throws that elbow up just as he had 2 times before and he says, “That thing had whisky in it. It wasn’t empty. Are you sure you didn’t see me leave it here?”

And so we both replied, once again, that we did not see him with a drink, let alone leave one behind.

Butter Guy is visibly annoyed. Then he takes out his wallet, and he looks inside. Then he looks at the bartender and he says “Can I get $3 worth of whisky?”

The bartender replies, “Our shots cost more than that.”

Butter Guy, “Well, that’s all I have.”

Bartender shakes his head. Butter Guy grins goofily at us both and leaves the bar. On his way back to the elevator, he meets a woman. She, too, is drunk. And on a quest…

Drunk Woman sees Butter Guy and she says, rather loudly, “Where’s my butter?”

So apparently, he lost the butter on the way back to his suite, as well as a glass of whisky. The butter, if you remember, was in the ice bucket. So presumably, he might have forgotten it was in there and everyone assumed he got ice. Or, alternatively, he may have stopped for ice, took the butter out and forgotten it at the ice machine. Either way, this woman’s pissed because he didn’t bring her butter.

They go back and forth about the butter, he asks her at one point if she knows where he set his drink. She retorts with, “I dunno. But where’s MY butter!” Eventually the pair reconcile and go back to the elevators.

At this point the bartender and I are just trying so hard not to bust out laughing. The front desk hostess runs over to us and she asks if we saw any of that. The bartender laughs with me, and I look at her and I say, “See it? We were part of it!” And the three of us laugh our butts off.

Well, the hostess heads back over to her desk when we heard the elevators ding.

And wouldn’t you know it….

Yes, that’s right….

It’s BUTTER GUY!

Drunk Woman was left upstairs I assume. Butter Guy comes straight to the bar, he does his elbow thing. I’ve finally finished my pizza and am nursing the remnants of my Pepsi. By now, it’s hard for both the bartender and I to keep a straight face. Butter Guy grins his goofy, drunk grin. And he says, “Can I get some forks?”

The bartender, finally getting a more normal question nods and he asks, “Plastic or silver?”

Butter Guy’s eyes widen. He gasps in surprise. His elbow is taken off the bartop and he’s blown away that he has a choice of forks. “Silver!” he blurts out. The bartender quickly excuses himself to get the forks. Butter Guy turns to me, and once more I am turned towards him to pay attention to this trainwreck of a Butter Quest. He simply says, “It’s for the spaghetti party. Because it’s a Sunday Spaghetti Party. Silver seems good. Right? Kinda fancy? Because it’s Sunday.”

The bartender returns with 5 forks. Butter Guy is blown away. He’s amazed. It’s like he’s just found the Holy Grail, and it’s full to the brim with his lost whisky and butter. Like a butter whisky in a fancy silver cup. Because Sunday.

Butter Guy thanks the bartender profusely. I finish up my Pepsi and start packing up. In the midst of all this, from the start to the finish, I still have not paid my bill. At this time, I do so. the bartender and I share a glance and I bid him goodnight, laughing all the way back to my room.

And yet…

This is not where the story of Butter Guy ends. Oh no, there is one last sighting of Butter Guy, Drunk Woman, and the rest of the Sunday Spaghetti Party Crew.

Check-out was the next day at Noon. Husband, myself, and a third wheel were the last of the people in our room to check-out, and we took advantage of the time our other roommates left to tidy up after and watch some more TV (since we don’t have cable it was bliss). We went downstairs to wait in the lobby for our ride, and who do I see standing in line to check-out? Standing next to the chair that I choose, on a whim, to sit in?

It’s BUTTER GUY!

When I notice who it is, I get his attention and ask, “So, did you ever find the butter?”

He looks at me strangly, narrowing his eyes in concentration until he comes to a vague conclusion that perhaps I am recognizable. So, I ask something else. “How’d your spaghetti party go?”

This prompts a hazy recognition from him. “Oh? Oh, that. It was fine.”

“Did you ever find your glass of whisky?” I asked.

He blinks at me. “I don’t drink whisky.”

“Could have fooled me. Last night you came down for butter, forks, and a lost glass of whisky.” He starts to turn a little red. Clearly, I’m embarassing him. So, I politely laugh it off, and leave him be. Just as I was standing up to go catch my ride, I hear from behind me at the front desk the voice of the same woman who was on duty the evening before.

“What’d you need all that butter for?! Garlic bread?!”

And so closes The Tale of Butter Guy.

 

Atlanta Vacation: Final Day

So today was our last day in Atlanta, and the day we came home. I’m writing this from the comfort of my own bed tonight. Sore and achey; my calves want to scream when I stand up and waddle my way to the bathroom. My back sore not from my chronic pain condition, but rather from being so active the last 4 days.

The hotel we stayed at, The Hyatt House, was wonderful. The staff were so kind, and actually like their jobs! The room itself was so comfy and cozy, and honestly I spent more time in the room than I did doing anything else (because hey, as I said before – I was trying to rest, relax, sleep, and just enjoy the time away from home and stress and responsibility). Most of my roommates, as I said before, I really enjoyed sharing the space with. They were fun, but also very respectful of one another’s privacy and mindful of everyone’s personal needs. We’re already planning to room with the same small group next year, that’s how enjoyable the experience with them was! And being able to pay part of the room rather than the whole thing for all 4-5 days enabled them to actually afford to make the trip. 10 our of 10 will definately room with these people as much as possible! Except… for one. We’ll get to him further down the post…

Anyway, my husband enjoyed himself immensely. He went to parties, raves, panels, events, all sorts of things. And still made a little time to spend with me as well. We had a lovely date out for dinner, and another lovely – but exhausting – date on Sunday out to do some shopping and sight seeing in the area he used to live in. I bought some souveniers, as I said in my post from yesterday. And despite his having to deal with a few pretty big problems, he loosened up and I haven’t seen him this relaxed and rejuvinated since before we married nearly 3 years ago! He also got a lot of positive feedback on his armor project that he’s been working on for the last few years, and it’s really made him want to continue with it and make it even better.

But, this trip wasn’t without it’s downside. Let’s start with the one thing I didn’t like about our room: the light switch situation. When one first enters the room, there is a light switch to turn on some ceiling lights right there at the entrance. This light must be turned on in order for the bathroom light to work. I don’t know why this is, but that’s how it works. This is annoying for the sole reason that the entry lights are just bright enough to wake everyone up! And with 7 people in one room… that’s a LOT of light switching to do during the night when people need to both pee and sleep. And it was impractical to leave the light on because again – the light wakes everyone up.

And then there’s…. the other downside. At least for me. The others would include being just a little too far away from the main goings on of the convention. The convention was still within walking distance from our hotel though. But if you’ve been partying at a rave till 5AM… it’s a hell of a walk back to bed! However for me, the only other downside was… our 7th roommate. We’ll call this person “Nate”.

After the first night, and having had to ride with “Nate” part of the way into Atlanta, I told my husband, who had arranged the trip and sleeping arrangements of the group, that I didn’t want to room with “Nate” ever again. Citing the reason that he smelled awful. I mean, it wasn’t just that he smelled like alchohol, or he had a slightly offensive body odor he couldn’t control. The man’s base smell is just… I’d rather stick my head in a trash can to be honest. Because the man smelled like he just doesn’t ever bathe. I know for a fact that during the entire trip, he never showered. At least, not at our room that we shared with him. He didn’t swim either, because the pool was closed. And the hours that he kept – the pools were closed at the other hotels as well. Only rain, it seemed, touched this man’s body. When he didn’t smell like his usual day to day base scent, it was like he had a cloud of liquor and cigatettes hanging around him. It made everyone else’s stuff smell slightly like booze and smoke because he didn’t keep his stuff contained to one area (husband and I had the closet because it was by our bed. The roomies I liked – one couple had their in and around the dresser, while the remaining 2 kept their stuff under and in front of a desk. This left “Nate” a space next to these big cube shaped seats and in front of the locked door to the ajoining room doors thing) and threw his things all over one of the beds (he did move it before he left that night though). We only know that his stuff got mixed up with their’s because they were picking his dirty clothes out of their stuff as they packed the night before and morning of check-out.

Now, his odor was just the tip of the iceburg with “Nate”. The man left his dirty glasses and trash everywhere, too. Half drunk glasses of orange juice and rum. Empty cans of ravioli. It was awful. After the first day of cleaning up after him, I told my husband to talk to the guy about cleaning up his messes. It lasted a day. Then he was leaving even more trash everywhere.

And yet, that wasn’t the worst of it. THAT could have been something that everyone else in the room could overlook as just having a shitty roommate and to make sure to tell the head of our group not to put him in our rooms ever. No. The WORST of it was last night.

He came back to the room at an unusual hour for him: before 10PM. See, this guy would wake up anywhere from 2pm to 5pm, get up, get dressed, take a piss, and then grab his gear and nobody would see him agian until around 5 or 6AM, where he would crash right before we all would get up and go down for breakfast. Because he was an ass, we didn’t bother waking him for the free breakfast nor would any of us bring him anything back. Because he was an annoying, obnoxious asshole.

But last night, he came back to the room before 10PM – so right away me and the other couple that were in the room were suspicious. I had found out the guy had brought mushrooms – not for a pasta sauce – with him. And that he still had some. Well last night, he brings this twitchy, jumpy guy back to the room with him. Guy is going to great lengths to avoid letting us see his face. Just as “Nate” and this guy come in, the girl from the couple had gone to the bathroom to brush her teeth, take her medication, shower, and her whole pre-sleep routine. So she’s in there a while. The buddy “Nate” brought back is getting more and more jittery, and he’s making sure the rest of us can’t see his face clearly, going so far as to having “Nate” turn off one of the lamps in the room to make the corner they were in darker. Well, after a while “Nate” says he has to pee when the girl comes out. She comes out of the bathroom about 5 minutes later. “Nate” goes to the bathroom… followed by Mr. Jumpy, who again is trying to hide his face from us as he quickly rushes after him. Now, the bathroom has a sliding door rather than the traditional knob and pull or push door. And the bathroom walls are so not-soundproof that we can hear whenever someone farts in the bathroom, and if someone’s on the toilet, they can hear entire conversations in the bedroom.

So, I timed them. It was 5 minutes of conversation, slightly muffled because we had the TV on watching Adult Swim on Cartoon Network. But my bed was closest to the bathroom, so I can kind of hear bits and pieces a lot clearer than the couple sitting on the other bed. I timed them. Not enough time for a blow job before any of us heard any peeing. And just enough suspiciousness and weird conversation snippets to lead myself and the couple to believe “Nate” had just done a drug deal in our bathroom.

5 minutes until we heard the sound of pee hitting the toilet. And I don’t think “Nate” needed someone in there to spot him as he took a piss. Toilet flushes, and the two rush back across the room to the corner they were in before. And then in a matter of seconds, the guy’s nearly out the door… and in the full light of the ceiling lights at the entrance of the room. We can see his face clearly for the first time since this entire situation began. I’ve written up a long text to my husband, but I haven’t sent it yet. I wanted to wait and see, just to be sure of what went down before I send the text, detailing the strangeness of “Nate” and Mr. Jumpy. “Nate” keeps trying to get Mr. Jumpy to give him his Facebook details, so they can be friends. Mr. Jumpy is coming up with every single excuse in the book to get away before finally he noticed myself and the couple all had our phones out, and 2 of us were seated facing him as if ready to snap a picture. At last he says he’ll look “Nate” up and vanishes. “Nate” is confused as to why Mr. Jumpy wouldn’t give him his FB details. But myself and the couple – all 3 of us know why. Because witnesses were there. Witnesses that looked like they might squeal.

It’s another 10-15 minutes before “Nate” finally leaves to go to the last rave of the convention. I hit send. I ask the others if they had the same suspicions as I did. Indeed they do.

Now, I don’t mind people drinking. I don’t mind people getting sloppy drunk – so long as they are legal age and responsible about it (no driving, having someone else take them home, etc.) and don’t turn into abusive assholes when they drink. But when it comes to drugs – I have a ZERO TOLLERANCE policy. Period. If someone has a prescription for pain medication, that’s one thing. I understand that. But when people sell their medications, or they are doing drugs around me, or selling drugs around me, etc – fuck no. THIS time I didn’t call the cops because “Nate” is a friend of the guy who put together all the roomshares for the groups we hung our with this year, and I didn’t want to drag the rest of our roommates into drama and ruin their first ever DragonCon for them. Because I want them to come back next year, and we can all hang out and enjoy a nice vacation together. But hot damn – did I make sure everyone I talked to, from my husband and all the way up the food chain know – I don’t tollerate that shit and he’d best never be put in my rooms again. Period. No compromises, no deals, no exceptions. This guy was bad news. And like hell I’m gonna be put into that situation again.

But let’s finish this post off on a more positive note, shall we?

After the “Nate” mess, I popped downstairs to buy 2 pints of ice cream and a milk (because literally moments before the “Nate” situation, myself and the husband from the couple were going to go downstairs and get ice cream and milk because he wanted ice cream, and I’d forgotten my tums at home and had killer heartburn so I was gonna drink some milk to help alleviate it). Told them it was my treat for them having been put in that situation and reassured them that “Nate” was not going to be rooming with us next year, or ever again if I had anything to say about it. So we had an ice cream and milk party, just the 3 of us, while watching cartoons in the middle of the night.

This morning, we all got up (except “Nate”) and rushed to breakfast because we all got up late and it would be shutting down in about half an hour and get cleaned up. Thankfully the majority of our stuff, everyone (again except “Nate”) had packed up the night before to be ready for check-out today.

We bid our new friends adieu, told them we hope to see them again next year. Swapped Facebook details. And made plans for next year. So far, one of them has already pre-registered for next year’s con, and paid for his badge for then. He’s also already contacted my husband about getting rooms at a host hotel for next year! It was their first con, and already planning to come back. I’m glad they enjoyed themselves so much!

My husband, “Nate”, and I checked out a few hours later, went to wait for our ride at another hotel, and managed to get home in about an hour and a half. Not too bad for holiday and post-convention traffic in a super busy state capitol.

And right before i sat down to type out this post, I had already worked out a plan of action for how to get to and from the convention next year as well. Every month I’m going to put $5-$10 into my Paypal account to pay for a ride (either Uber or Lift) to the MARTA station in Marietta. And THEN to pay for MARTA fare to take us into Atlanta either by bus or by the train. (There’s a bus station, but there’s also a train station at another location in Marietta. It just depends on which way will be easier for us to get into downtown.) And then repeat in reverse to get home. That way, we aren’t totally dependent on someone else for transportation and have to abide by their schedule.

And because we had such a good time, and it honestly did us some good, and my mom had a decent time bonding with my son, this might become a regular yearly thing. I hope so, because it was good for us to get away, and it helped my mom to feel needed again, and it helped her bond with her grandson. AND it helped us out with him, too, because she was able to get him to do certain things we’ve been trying (and failing) to get him to do. Like sit down and eat at the table, and go to bed at a normal hour, etc.

Honestly, I can’t wait for next year’s vacation!

I’ll post pictures sometime this week or next. Most of them will be of my husband, or pictures he took since I stayed in most of the time. Funny stories from the trip will be written up and posted soon, too. I’m just too tired and this post is quite long enough already. So this seems like a good place to cap it off.

Atlanta Vacation: Day 4

So today I was going to go to the aquarium. Well, I had to choose between paying for ticket or buying stuff at a shop husband wanted to take me to. So I decided to shop instead, because the store and the area it’s in is very important to him, and it’s important to him that I like it.

I bought a book, some incense, a keychain, some dragon’s blood resin, and a cute Star Wars shirt for my son.

And husband bought me the cutest little necklace!

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We had lunch at a place called the Euclid Street Yacht Club. It’s a bar, and no one under 18 can get in. They had tater tots that were so good I want to incorporate them into a new burger based religion.

We’ll be checking out tomorrow morning and heading home. I didn’t get a ton of pics, but I sure did get a LOT of walking in. My legs feel so fucking tight and sore. Wish we had a hot tub at this hotel, but we don’t.

The pool was finally opened back up today, and I did get to go swimming. It felt so good on my joints and my back! It was wonderful! And my bathing suit fit me so well. I didn’t feel embarassed or anything.

Atlanta Vacation: Day 3

Didn’t do much today. Slept in late. Watched Harry Potter movies all day. Didn’t make it to the park, and got lost on my way to Subway. Thankfully I’d gone in a full circle around the block and ended up back at the hotel.

Had a quiet evening in since the pool is closed until tomorrow for cleaning. Had some much needed cuddle time with my hubby. We had dinner together while watching The Big Bang Theory. The burgers from the bar downstairs are really good. He had left-over wings from Hooters last night.

Our roomies are at a rave tonight, so I’m sittin here with the TV on Cartoon Network right now, just chillin and doing computer maintenence.

I’ve needed this quiet time away. I’ve noticed that after the first day and a half, without the stress of my day to day life hovering over me, I haven’t been in as much pain as I had been. Plus the hotel bed is firmer than the one at home. And larger, so there’s enough room for both me and my husband.

Back home my son’s doing well with his granny, too. I must confess though. I did put Spongebob on earlier because it feels so weird going 24 hours without hearing that damned theme song!

Atlanta Vacation: Day 2

I’m writing this on day 3, because I was just so exhausted at the end of yesterday.

I spent most of the day sleeping and watching TV. I was so sore after the freaking speed walk/run the night before that I was just like “Nope.” when I woke up yesterday. And I deliberately skipped taking my pain meds so I could have ONE drink with my husband (since he was looking forward to getting me drunk before I got my diagnosis) because I knew he was dissapointed that I couldn’t drink due to meds. Then we walked down to Peachtree Center to Hooters for a super late dinner. He went on after that to go party, I went back to the hotel to crawl into bed and watch some TV.

I did text my best friend from the Hooters, teasing him that he needs to make a roadtrip next year since one of his goals in life is to go to every single Hooters in the US.

I don’t have many pictures of my trip yet, but when I get home I’ll pull them off the camera and my phone to post.

Today though, I’m hella sore so I’ll be hitting the pool later today. Husband is wanting to take me to Five Points (where he used to live) and I’m going to hit up the park at some point today or this evening. We’ll see how that goes in my next post.

Atlanta Vacation: Day 1

So husband goes to DragonCon. I don’t. Mom said if I didn’t go, she wouldn’t help me with my toddler age son. So, here I am in Atlanta. Not exactly ideal for my anxiety – I don’t live in a big city for a reason. So while he’s busy with the convention, I plan to do some sight seeing. We are right across the street from the Atlanta Aquarium, and I am definately going to go check that out. Also a short walk to Centenial Park, another sight I want to see (in the daylight).

We got into town around 3 something. Parking is hell. Paid an unplanned $26 (20 of which was my trip cash) for parking overnight – and it’s not even our car. Husband’s friend picked us up – so I guess that’s payment for the ride then? Anyway the room is nice but unfortunately in order to afford to make the trip, we’re rooming with 5 other people. Husband made sure we get one of the 2 beds though, because he organized the trip and I have my bad knees and now bad back. Most of the people we’re rooming with are pretty cool though. They are super nice. I wouldn’t mind if we roomed with them again every year. They are so nice and helpful. Well, I said most because there’s this one guy… he’s nice and all – but he smells horribly. I told husband I really don’t want to end up rooming with him again.

Our hotel even has free breakfast, super fast wifi (thank the gods), a very nice swimming pool, and the bar is open for dinner from 5pm-10pm.

I’m exhausted right now, so I’m gonna curl up with a book I brought and get to sleep.