Story 551: Vacation Timelessness Holdover

 AUGUST 4

(On the phone)

Friend 1: Oh hi; what’s up?

Friend 2: Hey, sorry to bother you – probably packing for vacation now, right?

Friend 1: Heh-heh-heh: I don’t pack `til morning of.

Friend 2: What if you have an early-morning flight?

Friend 1: Then I pack earlier-morning.  So, no: I’m just hanging around enjoying my pre-vacation day off from work before I have to hustle myself to The Shore and then really relax.

Friend 2: Great!  Well, I was just calling to wish you safe travels, and have fun with your family down there – need me to collect your mail or water your plants or anything?

Friend 1: Mail’s on hold, and you know all my plants ran away to save themselves from my neglect.

Friend 2: True.  OK, have a great time then, and show me some pictures of the overcrowded beaches and boardwalk or something when you get back.

Friend 1: Thanks!  I’m just looking forward to when I enter the Vacation Timelessness state.

Friend 2: The what state?

Friend 1: You probably know the feeling: it takes about a day or so, but at some point on a long trip I start losing track of the days, the weeks, the months, and if I’m real lucky, the hours and minutes.  Wreaks havoc on reservations, but that’s what the other members of my group are for.

Friend 2: I think I know what you mean.  Whelp, enjoy, but don’t get too timeless that you forget to come back home.

Friend 1: Heh-heh-heh – if only….

AUGUST 19

(On the phone)

Friend 1: Oh hi; what’s up?

Manager: Oh, not much.  So: you showing up to work some time today?

Friend 1: Today?

Manager: You took off more days than most people in this economy feel comfortable with, plus cushion days before and after, so you were scheduled to come back to work on the following Monday.

Friend 1: Monday?

Manager: Yes, I generously gave you off both weekend days – don’t know what I was thinking – even let you sleep in today, what a sap I am – so your shift started at 3:00.

Friend 1: 3:00?

Manager: Just get here in the next 30 minutes and make up the lost hour tomorrow, and I won’t write you up – this time.  (Ends the call)

Friend 1: Thirty minutes?

SEPTEMBER 2

(In a department store, Friend 2 goes to the customer service desk where Friend 1 is stationed)

Friend 2: Hi!

Friend 1: (With a glazed look) Hello, how can I help you?

Friend 2: …It’s me.

Friend 1: (Shakes self briefly) Yeah, sorry – I’ve been a little out of it lately.

Friend 2: I’ll say: you keep missing meeting up for lunch to show me your vacation photos; I figured I could track you down at work since you’d have to be here at some point and can’t escape.  Saved it for Labor Day, since I knew you’d feel a bit down having to work on the one holiday that should be guaranteed off for all laborers, but I guess someone always has to work for the rest of us to enjoy the day, you know?

Friend 1: (Stares blankly at Friend 2) Labor Day?  When is that this year?

Friend 2: (Stares blankly at Friend 1) Today is Labor Day.

Friend 1: (Shakes self briefly again) Oh, right – I get an extra day off later this week instead – which day…?

Friend 2: Are you feeling all right?

Friend 1: Yeah, 100%, why?

Friend 2: You seem more scatterbrained than usual.

Friend 1: (Looks around to make sure no one else is close by, then leans in toward Friend 2 to stage whisper) Actually, I think I may have a timelessness problem.  Possibly even a syndrome.

Friend 2: What?

Friend 1: You know how I said when I go on vacation I start losing track of time?

Friend 2: Yeah, the vacation time bit; so?

Friend 1: Well, usually once I come back to reality then the arbitrarily determined days, months, minutes, hours, and all that jazz come horribly crashing back on me and the inevitable march of mortality resumes in my brain, and all is as it has been, even if it isn’t as it should be.

Friend 2: Yeah?

Friend 1: So this time, that… didn’t happen.

Friend 2: You got back weeks ago.

Friend 1: Weeks?

Friend 2: Yeah, it’s probably almost half a month by now.

Friend 1: Month?

Friend 2: Why do you keep repeating what I’m saying?

Friend 1: Because time-related words have ceased to mean anything to me.  I’ve resorted to setting alerts on my phone and leaving notes for myself everywhere just to simply exist in a world where the clock means something to everyone else.  I used to shop for groceries on the same day every week and now only do so when I’ve run out of food.

Friend 2: Why not set an alert or leave yourself a note for that, too?

Friend 1: Gotta draw the line somewhere.  Point is, I’ve become… unmoored in time.  (Eyes widen in realization) I wonder if that means I can now travel through time?!

Friend 2: I doubt it.  Did you get in an accident, hit your head or something while you were away?

Friend 1: Hm?  Oh, no, nothing like that – went dolphin watching one day; they were pretty fun.

Friend 2: Well, what you’re describing sounds a bit serious and you probably should see a doctor to get your brain checked out.

Friend 1: Forget the timelessness bit – I’m afraid what else they’ll find in there.

SEPTEMBER 15

(On the phone)

Friend 2: Hi!  Did you enjoy your birthday dinner with your folks today?

Friend 1: Always – I’m actually calling to let you know I’m cured.

Friend 2: What?

Friend 1: The timelessness thing.  It’s done; it’s over; I’m back to so-called normal.

Friend 2: Oh… oh!  That’s great!  So, what was it then, did the doctor give you a pill or something?

Friend 1: Didn’t get that far: I had a barrage of scans and blood tests that showed I’m pre-diabetic and peri-lazy, so I got referred to a psychiatrist for next week but I’m cancelling because I got cured in the meantime.

Friend 2: OK, so… how were you cured?

Friend 1: Well, you know this year was the big 4-0 for both of us –

Friend 2: Don’t remind me.

Friend 1: – and at dinner one of my helpful relatives grabbed me by the shoulders right as I was about the blow out the cupcake candles and said “Welcome to Middle Age, chum!”  And that did it.

Friend 2: That was it?  That’s all it took?

Friend 1: Yep.  In the blink of an eye, time got its stranglehold back on my brain, and I now know exactly what day, month, year, etc., etc., it is all over again.

Friend 2: Oh.  Wow.  Kind of a stinky way for it to happen, but whatever works, right?  No more timelessness and feeling unmoored, yay!

Friend 1: Yeah, yay.

Friend 2: What’s the matter now?

Friend 1: …I kind of miss it.

Story 543: Trying to Call Out From Work on Father’s Day

             (On the phone)

Manager: Hi – what’s up?

Employee: Hi, yes, you’re never gonna believe this –

Manager: I bet I won’t.

Employee: –  but I would like to call out from work today, please.

Manager: Today is Father’s Day.

Employee: Yes, yes it is.

Manager: It’s the second biggest sales day for us after Christmas Eve.

Employee: I thought last time you said Mother’s Day was the second biggest sales day?

Manager: Turns out I was mistaken.  I’m big enough to admit I’m wrong when I’m caught.

Employee: Good on you.  Anyways, just letting you know, I’m taking today off.

Manager: No you’re not: you’re scheduled on alternating hours covering the front register and customer service desk to handle all the last-minute panicking guilt-ridden adult children.

Employee: I thought you might say that, so I counter that offer with my willingness to work on Labor Day instead, even though its very existence implies that I shouldn’t have to by law.

Manager: It’s not an offer; it’s the non-negotiable schedule that’s been up for weeks – don’t tell me you forgot to request off super-early again like you did for Mother’s Day?

Employee: …OK, I won’t tell you.

Manager: You’re a real piece of work.  And no one else can switch with you for today, is that it?

Employee: Would you believe me if I told you I forgot to ask anyone until this morning?

Manager: Yes.

Employee: Well, there’s your answer.

Manager: Then I’m not too sorry to say there’ll be no last-minute saves with shift-switching today like we were able to pull off last time, so you’re stuck working most of the afternoon and all night.  I pity your dad, you know: there’s no way you’re calling out today unless you send over a doctor’s note that you’re violently ill within the next 20 minutes.

Employee: A doctor’s note, eh?  <COUGH-COUGH>

Manager: And don’t think I won’t be able to tell if it’s something you just whipped up on your home computer.

Employee: Oh.  I retract those coughs, then.

Manager: So you’re still coming in today, yes?

Employee: (Sighs) Unfortunately, although it pains my very soul to do so, yes I’m still coming in today.  I just will have to tearfully explain to my beloved father that his beloved child has been forced by a cruel manager and the unfeeling forces of capitalism to spend precious hours serving idle consumerists instead of showing my appreciation of him being the World’s #1 Dad, that’s all.

Manager: Wonderful.  I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but if it’s any consolation he can commiserate with my father on what awful children they have.

Employee: How so?

Manager: I lost track of the Sundays in June and wound up scheduling myself today, too.

Story 538: Trying to Call Out From Work on Mother’s Day

             (On the phone)

Manager: Hi – what’s up?

Employee: Hi, yes, I would like to call out from work today, please.

Manager: Today is Mother’s Day.

Employee: Yes, yes it is.

Manager: It’s the second biggest sales day for us after Christmas Eve.

Employee: So I’ve been told.

Manager: You’ve also been told that I already gave the day off to the mothers among us, and the rest of you either needed to have requested off three months ago and hope for the best or take another day off to make up for it if you wanted.

Employee: I do recall that.  However, I should make you aware at long last that I, too, am a mother.

Manager: Since when?!

Employee: It has been my private shame these past five years: the Baron refuses to acknowledge not only me, the one true love of his life, but also his 12 illegitimate children, whose presence, if revealed, would divide his estate into so many portions that even his so-called legal heirs would barely get a dime, and the horrendous scandal would tear his country apart.  The least I could get out of this stressful ordeal is one day with my offspring serving me breakfast in bed, don’t you think?

Manager: You’ve had 12 children in five years?

Employee: …There were a few sets of triplets in there.

Manager: You’re still working today.

Employee: OK-OK-fine; if that tragic tale doesn’t move your cold heart to tears, then I must tell you directly: I rescued a gaggle of orphaned goslings last night, and they imprinted on me.

Manager: Really.

Employee: I am now the matriarch of an interspecies family – how can you ask me to walk away from that enormous responsibility on today of all days?!

Manager: Well, I’m not asking.

Employee: Glad we agree.

Manager: I’m telling you directly: if you don’t come into work today, you’ll have all the time you like to mother your feathered children because you won’t be spending it here.

Employee: (Sighs) You leave me no choice, then.

Manager: Here it comes.

Employee: I swore never to reveal this to a single modern soul, but you have pushed me to the brink: my true name is… Eve.

Manager: OK…?

Employee: As in, the Mother of All Humanity.

Manager: Oh, for crying out –

Employee: Peace, my child: I have long since forgiven you and your brethren’s slanderous lies that I am solely responsible for getting us kicked out of Paradise – I seem to recall your Father going along with the fun until we got caught, which is retroactively typical.

Manager: Whatever: you still have an eight-hour shift coming up in 20 minutes.

Employee: All right!  The truth is, I’d promised my mom that I’d request off Mother’s Day this year but then I lost track of time and when I finally remembered it was a week away and I ran out of people who could switch days with me and now she’s gonna give me the disappointed look for the rest of my life!

Manager: Now why didn’t you just lead with that?  I still can’t switch days for you but I know at least one person doesn’t want to work tonight anymore, so if you take their closing shift and they work your mid-shift then you’ll at least get to do brunch or something with your mom today.

Employee: Yes!  That’d be perfect – you’re a lifesaver, thank you!

Manager: You’re welcome.  I gotta make a few phone calls now to set this up, so I’ll see you at 5, OK?

Employee: That’d be swell!  You’re a great “mom” to all of us here, you know that?

Manager: Certainly feels like it.

Story 504: Obligation Pile-Up

“Don’t forget you have to pick up the kids after soccer practice tonight.”

“Oh shoot, I already did forget – what time is that?”

“7:00.”

“Shoot, I’m supposed to be on a teleconference for work at 7:00.”

“Why?”

“They want us to work all hours, what do I know?”

“Well, your children will be waiting for you at 7:00.”

“They’re your children too; can’t you pick them up tonight?”

“…I’m still out of the country settling my parents’ estate!”

“Oh right.  That’s still going on?”

“Good-bye.”

             *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

             “Ready for the conference on Thursday?  It’ll be fun to go to the casino afterward, if I don’t fall asleep in the hotel room first.”

“Wait a minute, that’s this Thursday?!”

“Yes, it’s been this Thursday since it was booked last year.”

“Oh no, I thought it was next week!  I told my friend I’d babysit that night, I even wrote it on the calendar, what-am-I-gonna-dooooooo?????”

“You thought to write babysitting on the calendar but not a work conference?”

“Babysitting was a higher priority!  What-am-I-gonna-dooooooo?????!!!!!”

“I dunno, take the kid with you?”

“I – hey, that’s not a bad idea.”

             *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

 “Hey, I got the tickets all ready for the show on Friday – I saved them to my phone AND printed copies, so one of them’s bound to work.”

“Right, about the show: could you pick me up at the boardwalk on your way to the theater?”

“Aaaand, why would I be picking you up there instead of at home?”

“I may have agreed to work a shift at the arcade that ends at 7:30 that night.”

“The show starts at 8!”

“…Plenty of time.”

             *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

 “So, I’m hosting Thanksgiving this year and was wondering if you could bring some dessert like cookies or a sheet cake or a chocolate fondue assortment – you know, nothing major.”

“Wait a minute, you’re hosting Thanksgiving this year?  Didn’t you tell me a while ago that you’re defending your doctoral thesis that week?”

“What’s your point?”

“How are you going to prepare all the food when you’re simultaneously preparing your oral defense?!”

“Despite everyone’s insistence to the contrary, I’ve personally found sleep to be highly overrated.”

             *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

“Wanna meet up for dinner this Saturday?”

“Can’t – got the kids’ karate tournament.  What about Sunday?”

“Can’t – got my cousin’s graduation party.  What about next Saturday?”

“Can’t – gotta stay with my grandmother that night while everyone else goes to a wedding.  What about next Sunday?”

“Can’t – gotta work that night for a group project that’s due that Monday, and we all have to wait until that date for stuff to be processed `cause it’s on a schedule.  What about the following Saturday?”

“Can’t – we’ll be in the mountains getting away from it all.  What about the following following Saturday?”

“Can’t – we’ll be at the shore getting away from it all.  What about – ?”

“Gonna cut you off right there and say ‘Can’t’ – how about a weeknight instead?”

“Mondays to Thursdays are permanently booked with sports practice, band practice, and/or clubs for all ages, and Fridays are the only nights where we can actually take a breath but I can make an exception this one time.”

“Forget it – Fridays are the only nights we can take a breath, too.”

Story 286: Self-Appointed Travel Agent

            (The Family gathered `round for a social media fireside chat)

           Parent 1: Right, since no one else has taken the initiative this year, I’m going to go ahead and plan our entire summer vacation, everyone OK with that?  Speak now, or never complain about anything ever again.

            Parent 2: OK.

            Child 1: OK.

            Child 2: OK.

            Cousin: OK.

            Parent 1: Who invited you?!

            Cousin: You did, last year.

            Parent 1: I what?  Oh yeah, never mind.  Well, if you still want to be the fifth wheel, you have absolutely no input regarding the week we go or the activities we do.

            Cousin: Fine by me – I do nothing anyway, so this’ll be a nice change.

            Child 1: Can we go to Disney World this year?

            Parent 1: We already did Disney World!

            Child 1: Yeah, like 25 years ago!  I wanna go again!

            Parent 1: You’re a grown man, son, no more Disney for you!

            Child 1: I’m stuck in arrested development!  And Disney owns everything and is a nerd haven now; those are my people!

            Child 2: I veto Disney and propose Qatar.

            Parent 1: Where now?!

          Child 2: It’s like Las Vegas, only more refined.  Everyone there is super-rich and I want to absorb their joy.

            Parent 2: I vote for Glastonbury Festival.

            Parent 1: Not this again – last time you hated all the bands and forgot to bring the tent so we had to re-enact Woodstock conditions!

         Parent 2: I realized later what a truly memorable experience it was and I would appreciate it all the more this time.  In a luxury tent.

          Parent 1: Well I veto you all since you literally had an entire year to make up your minds before now.  I declare that this summer, our destination will be: Cape April.

            Parent 2: Oh.

            Child 1: Oh.

            Child 2: Oh.

            Cousin: YESSSSSSS!!!!!

          Parent 1: My decision is final and I will brook no argument – you either remain on complaint silence throughout the entire stay, or book your own vacation that you then will take alone and bored.

            Parent 2: Well, that town is very tranquil.

          Parent 1: It is a city, it is bristling with activities, and the whole thing was made a historic landmark so it is a very exciting place to be!  We will be taking enriching self-guided tours and steeping ourselves in cultured talks and lounging for hours at the dignified beaches and there will be absolutely no whining, DO YOU HEAR ME????

            Child 2: Please stop yelling by text – it hurts my ears and I don’t know why.

          Child 1: If you’re going to be the one booking everything, do we still have to split all the costs?

            Parent 1: You have five seconds to withdraw that abominable question.

ON THE VACATION

            (The Family arrives by car and checks into their multi-room suite)

            Parent 1: All right, now that the interminable check-in process finally is over, I want to review our itinerary for the week.  (Flicks open a five-foot long scroll)

            Parent 2: Wiiiillllll we have time for all this?

          Parent 1: Yes: I have everything scheduled down to the minute, so I require everyone’s full cooperation.  Now, we have precisely 23 said minutes to go over this and then relax before we head over to the city center for the two hours allotted to “Shopping Time.”

            Cousin: (Sprawled across an armchair, rolls head back) Uggggghhhhhh…..

           Parent 1: I had no choice: the activity would have been done no matter what, so at least this way I control the location and duration.

            Child 2: Aw, no fair, I also wanted to shop over on the west side!  And the east side!  And the south side!  And two hours isn’t nearly enough for all of that!

            Parent 1: Too bad, it’s this or nothing!  Now, when we return from that, it’s off to dinner next door for 1.5 to 2 hours depending on the crowds, then miniature golf down the street for another hour, then ice cream that we can eat on the way back, then if all goes well, a few rounds of pinochle in the room here before promptly retiring to bed at 10:30 p.m. sharp.  Tomorrow, we get up at 6:00 a.m. for an hour run before breakfast back in the room here, then off by quaint trolley car to the Historical Society to listen to a rousing session on “The Legacy of Colonial Imperialism: How Nostalgic Décor Masks the Truth of Oppression,” then –

            Parent 2: Wait a minute, when are we going to go to the beach?

           Parent 1: I’m getting to that!  Then, it’s lunchtime at the café on the corner, which should wrap up by 1:30 p.m. at the latest so we have enough time to get changed and head over to the beach, which we then should leave by 5:00 p.m. at the latest so we can get to dinner by 6:30 p.m. at the latest –

            Cousin: Whatever – I’m going to be surfing all day every day, so just let me know what times you’re eating and maybe I’ll meet up with you.  I’ll probably just grab something, though.

            Parent 1: Just… grab… something?  Where?  When?  What?

           Cousin: I’ll figure it out; there're tons of places around here and they’re open extra late for all the tourists, which we are.

            Parent 1: But – but – the uncertainty –

           Child 1: Yeah, I think I’ll skip both the talk and the beach tomorrow: I saw there’s a dolphin watching boat nearby and I want to go on that instead.

            Parent 1: Dolphin watching’s on Thursday!

            Child 2: I think I’ll skip tomorrow, too – I really just want to shop in a bunch of stores, then spent the rest of the week here at the beach.

            Parent 1: I quite generously carved out two hours today to get those shenanigans out of your system!  You can shop anywhere and anytime back at home!  

            Child 2: Yeah, but they have cool shore stuff here.

            Parent 1: Stuff?!

           Parent 2: You know, I wanted to hike in The Nature Conservancy preserve that’s down here, and there isn’t one anywhere by us – is that on the itinerary?

           Parent 1: Why would it be?!  Why would you be hiking at a time like this, we are on vacation, WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE RELAXING!!!

         Cousin: (Gently plucks the scroll from Parent 1’s wildly waving hand) How about we all go through this together and decide which items which of us want to do, and arrange to meet up throughout the day?

           Parent 1: (Collapses onto the sleeper sofa) Oh all right, this trip is already chaos, might as well give into the anarchy!

            Parent 2: There now, doesn’t letting go feel relaxing?

            Parent 1: No!  Well maybe a bit.