Hubby recently had to make an unexpected service trip to Pittsburgh. He asked if the kids and I would like to go along, mentioning that he would be stopping in Columbus first to see if he could solve the problem through the main office.
I told the kids that Daddy would probably get things working while we were down in Columbus so it was unlikely that we would actually get to go to Pennsylvania, but maybe we could go to a couple of outlet stores while we waited on him.
Hubby pulled onto the interstate and headed what I thought was south. About an hour into our trip one of the kids asked, “Are we almost there?”
“We’ll be there soon!” I replied.
Hubby gave me a sideways glance and said, “No, we won’t. It’ll be another 2 ? hours.”
” I thought we were going to Columbus,” I said thoughtfully.
“Columbus, Ohio” he said deliberately. “Haven’t you noticed for the past hour we have been heading east instead of south?”
I shrugged my shoulders. It made no difference to me which direction we were going. We could be headed to the moon and I wouldn’t realize it until we got there. Hubby says I’m like a little pigeon that has lost its homing device and keeps flying around in circles.
I adjusted my thought process and settled in for a ride that turned out to be a bit longer than originally anticipated. Things didn’t work out in Columbus, and we ended up in Pittsburgh after all.
We checked into a hotel at 3:30 a.m. and the kids fell asleep with visions of swimming pools dancing in their heads. Hubby headed to work a few hours later so the kids and I had the morning to relax, eat breakfast, and hang out at the pool.
Unfortunately, the pool wouldn’t open until 5:00 p.m., long after our check out time. I went to the front desk and asked the clerk if they could make an exception for us. She called to a guy across the lobby, busy taking out the trash, and asked, “Adam, are you too busy to go into the pool?”
Apparently, Adam the trash guy was also a certified lifeguard. He looked like one too. Well-built, dark hair, great smile, and hemp necklace that only looks good against the tanned skin of the younger set.
He said he would work it out with the general manager and give us a call when he was ready. Twenty minutes later we were being ushered into the pool. Adam filled me in on some of the local history, as well as why in Allegheny County you have to sign a waiver, and have a lifeguard present, for a hotel pool.
The kids and I enjoyed our swim and then headed back to our room to shower before hubby returned. When I realized the blow dryer didn’t work I called the front desk and asked for a different one. The clerk told me that she would check with the maintenance man and give me a call back.
A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. Assuming it was hubby, I flung the door open and was startled to see Adam the trashman/lifeguard standing there with a blow dryer.
He said he couldn’t just leave it with me, but had to actually install it onto the bathroom wall. So, while he worked, I continued applying my make up, and we chatted.
After he had tested the hair dryer for the umpteenth time I thanked him for coming to the rescue again and escorted him to the door. Not even a full minute had passed when there was another knock. Assuming Adam had left behind a tool, or needed me to sign a waiver saying I wouldn’t use the blow dryer in the pool, I skipped the peephole and opened the door.
“Oh! It’s you!” I greeted hubby cheerfully.
“Well, who did you expect it to be?” he asked.
“Um, well, truthfully I thought you were Adam the lifeguard,” I replied. “He was just here installing my blow dryer. Didn’t you pass him in the hallway?”
“I didn’t see a blow dryer wielding lifeguard,” hubby mused. “Are you sure you weren’t fantasizing?”
Irritated that he wasn’t even a wee bit jealous or curious I rolled my eyes and went to dry my hair.
Shortly thereafter, my family took our bags and went to check out. I did a final sweep of the room and set out to join them. When I stepped into the elevator I found myself alone with Adam. We rode quietly to the lobby and then he flashed me a smile and bid me farewell. I turned just in time to see hubby finish checking out.
“Did you see him?” I asked.
“Who?” hubby queried.
“Adam the maintenance man,” I replied.
“I thought he was a lifeguard,” hubby countered.
“He was that too,” I insisted.
Hubby snickered, “Maybe he’s also a doctor. Why don’t you ask him for something to help with those hallucinations?”
Perhaps I was the only one that saw him, but that’s fine by me, for in my heart, we’ll always have Pittsburgh.
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