People on holiday say the darndest
things.
I'm sure that, in their real world,
these people are well-adjusted and intelligent.
But, for some reason, when they leave
home, they leave something else behind as well.
I've heard people say such gems as,
“Excuse me, guide? How do you get all of the flags on the compound
wall to fly in the same direction?”
And, “The sign says 'No Admittance'.
Is that for you? Or us?”
And my personal favourite, “How much
of these caves are actually underground?”
They make a great holiday just that
much more entertaining.
For example . . .
My Husby was at a conference in
Washington D.C.
I went along.
Because.
When he wasn't attending meetings, we
explored the city.
We were having a wonderful time.
On one free afternoon, we decided to
take a tour of the White House.
With a large group of fellow tourists,
we were directed to a relatively unimportant door somewhere in the
rear of the building.
Then guided, in a orderly manner and under the constant scrutiny of a number of Secret Service agents, through the building.
The agents each looked very Secret Service-ish
with dark glasses and an ear bud.
We felt as if we were in a movie.
The place was beautiful.
We saw state rooms and bed rooms.
Assembly halls and offices.
Dining rooms and ball rooms.
All were heavy with the feeling of
History.
Our guide gave us a large dollop of it
as she directed us from room to room.
My Husby is an historian.
We have spent our married life immersed
in things historical.
We couldn't have been happier.
Finally, regretfully, our tour drew to
a close.
We were led to the door under the
famous portico and released to the outside world.
Immediately past the door was yet
another secret service agent.
One of the guests hurried over to
him.”Excuse me, agent?” she asked.
He turned toward her. “Yes, Ma'am?”
he said in a colourless voice.
You know, I've always wondered what a
colourless voice was.
Now I know.
It has absolutely no inflection.
Soo . . . no colour.
Just FYI.
Back to my story.
“Yes, Ma'am?”
“This door . . . where we are . . .
that is the front of the White House, correct?”
“Yes, Ma'am.”
“So the other side. That would be the
back, right?”
I admire these agents. They must have
to take special training just to deal with the questions they may be
asked at any given moment.
His face didn't even twitch. “Yes,
Ma'am,” he said as soberly as if she had just asked him the time.
My Husby, on the other hand, was
totally unprepared for her question.
He burst into laughter.
I quickly pulled him away to the lawn.
“Hush!” I said.
Really. That's what I said.
But he wouldn't.
Hush, I mean.
Some people are so unruly.
“No, that would be the roof,” he
whispered to me.
I started towing him across the lawn.
“No, wait. Maybe it's the basement!”
I towed harder.
“Pantry?”
We really did enjoy our trip to
Washington.
The history.
And the tourists.
