Wednesday, October 14, 2015


 By the time we started our tour of Rome, the jet lag was virtually gone.  We could actually appreciate what we saw.  There was a sign in the Sistine Chapel not to take pictures, as the flash would damage the paintings.  Of course, someone did, and they almost arrested us.  Some words were exchanged, and they allowed us to stay.  We saw the Vatican, the Forum, Paul's jail cell, Peter's bones, and a lot of fountains.  For lunch, Sandra, Talula and I wanted to eat in an authentic Italian restaurant, so we went there, and the rest of our tour group ate somewhere else.  I had never had wine before that day, but we all drank some with our meal.  After lunch, we all ate a bunch of breath mints and stayed away from Mr. Vivian, as he would not have approved of us drinking alcohol.  Some of the older ladies on the tour could smell the wine, but they didn't tell on us.  We all appreciated that.
 The rest of our tour of Rome was uneventful, although Mr. Vivian wondered why we stayed away from him.  That night was another story.
 One thing that I had learned about Sandra was that she never talked about death.  If I would bring up that subject, she would always change the subject.  I was in bed asleep, when the phone rang in my room.  Mr. Vivian was also asleep.  I answered the phone, and it was Sandra.  She sounded very scared, and told me that she was afraid she was going to die, and I had to get to her room right then.  I knew there was a problem, so I lied to Mr. Vivian about why I had to leave for a while.  I put on some clothes and headed over to her room.  When I knocked on the door, there was a scared voice on the other side asking who it was.  When I identified myself, the door opened.  Sandra and Talula were shaking.
 Sandra explained why they were so afraid.  She had just taken a shower and found she needed more towels.  There was a few buttons in the room to call hotel staff.  One was for a maid; another for the front desk; and another for a bellboy.  They thought they pressed the button for the maid, but instead it was for the bellboy.  A knock came to the door, and they opened it.  Sandra was naked, and the bellboy's eyes just about popped out of his head.  Talula slammed the door.  They were afraid he was going to come back.  After I calmed them down, we decided to play a trick on the bellboy.  So, we put together a plan.  I was to hide in the bathroom and zip down my pants.  They were to call down to the front desk and apologize for their rude behavior to the bellboy, and then invite him back up to their room for some fun.  When he would knock on the door, they would open it.  When the door opened, I was to flush the toilet and come out while zipping up my fly.  We would then tell him that we were going to have a foursome.  He would get embarrassed and leave.  It seemed like a good plan.  It was implemented.  I was in the bathroom.  He knocked on the door.  They told him to come in, and I came out.  The bellboy's face turned red, and he ran away.  We had a good laugh.  I told them not to open the door for anyone until the next morning.  I went back to my room.  Mr. Vivian asked what the problem was, and I just told him there was no problem.  I went back to sleep.
 The next morning, we were to leave around 10am to go to the airport for a flight to Tel Aviv.  We were to gather in the lobby at 9:30 to start to load up.  We all at wake-up calls for 7:30.  Mr. Vivian and I got ready and packed and headed down to the lobby.  One by one, the other tour members were there too.  But no Sandra or Talula.  I called up to their room, and Sandra very sleepy answered the phone.  I asked her why they weren't downstairs.  She asked me what time it was, and I told her 9:45.  She said something, and then the phone went dead.  To get them back for how they treated the bellboy the night before, the front desk failed to give a wake up call to their room.  They threw on some clothes and got down by 10.  When they got downstairs, they looked over at the front desk, and the staff just smiled at them.  We were glad to get out of there.  We never told Mr. Vivian what had happened as to why they overslept.  It was just better that way.

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