The Cabanon

I was told the current fam’ didn’t want guests. So, with four days notice, I scrambled to find a place. Tony and Maria badgered me: “Just stay with us, it’s fine.” But I’m starting to feel like I should pay rent.

Yesterday Julien asked me if I could give him a ride to Toulon on Sunday. I said yes, as long as I had access to the car because I know the current guests want it… and, by the way, where are you two spending Saturday.

“Here, of course,” said Julien. Of course. Apparently it’s just me who’s not welcome.

So I was incredibly grateful Christine let me use the cabanon for the evening. In fact, I was quite looking forward to it: A whole day totally cut off from everybody and everything; just me, the beach, and the hut.

I opened the doors and was shocked – the place was a mess. There was spoiled milk in the sink, dirty dishes everywhere, sand and clutter all over the floors. “Shit,” I thought. “If I don’t clean this, they’ll think I left it this way.” So I immediately set on cleaning the kitchen.

An hour or so later, I moved up stairs to settle in – and use the toilet. Of course, I opened the door and was met by the repulsive smell of old human waste. “Ugh, what is this?” I opened the lid – human fesis, waiting for me. Gross.

Suddenly I thought I’d wait until tomorrow morning to pee.

But in a panic, I felt the need to clean. I flushed, took the toilet brush, and quickly realized the waste glued to the bowl was far too old to be removed simply.

That’s when I gave up.

I resigned myself to a movie – The Man in the Iron Mask -- and just when the new love of my life, D’Artagnan/Gabriel Byrne, was about to make the most heroic move ever, I heard the front door open.

My heart stopped. “Is someone trying to break in?”

I hurried to the top of the stairs to see a grown man, his wife and three small children standing with suitcases at the front door.

“Hi,” I said with a smile, “are you friends of Christine’s?”

“Yes,” the man said, “I’m her brother.”

Eek. Her brother, with suitcase.

He explained that he had the house, and he promised his children an evening. I offered to call a friend and leave, and I apologized for the confusion. I explained that I had only a few days to find a place and Christine was nice enough to let me stay here for the night, it’s only one night, but I have no place else to go because the house if full.

He said they had plenty of the room at their house, so they’d spend the night there and come back tomorrow.

I thanked them profusely and apologized again.

“It’s not your fault,” he said, “Christine should of told me. And who’s at the house? I’d love to say hello.”

Great, I thought. Not only did I get Christine in trouble – the person who did something great to help me out at the last minute – but I told them the house was full, when in fact there just isn’t a place for me. I can only imagine the problems this will cause.

That’s it. Raise the rent at Hotel Giscle: Tony and Maria have a monopoly on my nighttime plans until August. I clearly can’t find anywhere else to go… even though six months ago, I had it all worked out. Funny how people’s plans change.

Ugh.