The Final Straw

 

Sometimes all it takes is one tiny little irritating thing to launch you over the edge and project you into a flaming rage. We’ve all been there, at least I sure as shit hope we have. Yes people, many of us have the cognitive ability to rationalize emotion and calm ourselves down in times of adrenaline surge, but sometimes it’s just easier to let it go, and not in the Frozen sense.

My good and long time friend Balls (clearly her nickname) recently whirl-winded herself into my house in a frenzy I can relate too. She was having one of those days where nothing was going right. It was a series of events that had piled on her from the time of wake up and spiralled into one hell of a bad day. It included several things, snow shovelling, icy steps, a recent guy she met on a popular dating site had turned out to be a creep, her car gave her problems, messes were left around the house she had just cleaned, she smacked her head on a cupboard etc.

The final straw she huffed after recounting her impossible day, was that when she went to get ready to leave her house and come see me, she attempted a pony tail in her hair.

“You know when you get that one fucking loop of hair?!” she yelled, “That was it. That did it, fucking perfect pony tail except for the one tiny fucking little loop of hair sticking up right HERE.” (as she mentioned to where on her head this monstrous hair loop had lived)

She then recanted what around the house she slammed, kicked or whipped across a room. We ended up laughing the matter off and the remainder of the day mellowed her mood, but it got me to thinking. Thinking about those days I have where it all just seems to stack up. Recalling times I had slammed this or that and cried over a compilation of tiny little issues that always seemed to culminate with one last tiny thing.

The last snowflake that breaks the branch, the straw that breaks the camels back, the final hair loop that causes a person up a bell tower with a sniper rifle picking off civilians while muttering. What is really behind it all though? Is it the day that causes people to freak out? Is it a persons mood? And why, if we are so evolved and mature do we still throw tantrums from time to time when shit just isn’t right?

In order to really look into this, I decided to relive a day that almost ruined me.  Last January I attempted a trip to Collingwood Ontario to celebrate my friend Bilbo’s birthday (mutual friend with Balls, my friend Balls, not like man balls...Bilbo is female). It was to take place at a lovely luxury cabin in a winter wonderland with spa time, snow shoeing and wine. I couldn’t wait to get out of Dodge, and away from the daily stresses.

It turned into one of the longest and most stressful days of travel I have ever had.

I think I will take a note from Dane Cook, and Tarantino this story, starting of course at the end before jumping my way back to the beginning. So let’s do this...

I am a calm rationale person with respect for the employees of any establishment. However, Monday January 27th, 2014 at 11:52pm I found myself red faced and spitting while screaming across a hotel lobby reception desk at a Front Desk employee with a crowd of shocked hotel guests watching in horror. All this before dramatically grabbing my room key off the counter and dragging my luggage across the Best Western lobby floor, tears rolling down my face while screaming "THIS PLACE IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS!"

I am not sure who I was by the end of that day, but let me rewind. There were definitely other “snowflakes” that fell before breaking my branch. 

I need to add that I studied Geography in University and never lost an interest in weather, but over the years due to it’s unpredictable nature, had lost interest in the weather channel at this time. I laughed recently when my friend told me he had more faith in the ground hogs' weather predictions than he did the weather network. I have decided recently to start pay closer attention to both.

It all started, with a very early alarm. It was a cold Monday in the Niagara region and the sound of my alarm shattered my deep sleep. I dragged myself out of bed, and stood in my hallway feeling dizzy and tired.

I had just come off a long stretch of night shifts at work, and had only 24 hrs to try and switch my sleep pattern to normal. It had failed and I could feel the weight of overtired.

I was scheduled for a training session out of town at my work's head office, and was set to keep heading north afterwards for my week of snow related activities (aka drinking in a lodge). I was excited; there is nothing quite like snow covered pines and fresh air.

I had packed the car up the night before and was prepared for a long day. All I had to do, was take my cat to my parents house, and hit the highway. My cat always seems to know when I am about to abandoned her for awhile, she sees the luggage and she knows.

In the morning, sensing this inevitable departure, she hid. It took me twenty five minutes of searching and eventual chasing to capture my kitty, and when I finally slid her into the pet carrier I felt relief. That was, until I realized I had not closed the other side, and she simply walked right out, and hid for another ten minutes.

When I delivered the furry bundle of joy to my parents (I can see my father rolling his eyes right now) my phone rang. It was a co worker set to go to training, asking if I was going with the snow squall warnings in effect for the area.

I laughed, and said I would be going and it was fine, I had just been out on the roads. My mom then flipped on the weather channel, and showed concern for me driving up north later as the weather channel was saying to avoid travel.

I said I would check in with her later and not to worry, if I was too tired or the weather was bad I would wait a day to leave. I hopped in my car, hit the tunes and hit the road. I made my obvious stop at Tim's on the way to the HWY, as any respectable Canadian would do.

They didn't have the bagel or cream cheese I requested, and I somehow ended up ordering the next thing offered, a cheese bagel with butter. I was good with that, I love both cheese and butter (you don't keep a figure like mine without those things) but when I opened it as I drove away the butter which coated the entire bagel dripped all over my coat and the side of my arm.


I rarely bring things back, but it was not edible. If it has too much butter for me, it has way to much fucking butter. The lady was nice, but this put me back and I started to panic about being late before I hit the highway.

The weather was not entirely ideal but it was just snow. I continued to tell myself that if I could handle living in Northern Alberta, Southern Ontario winter was no big deal. As I started to unwind to the music and make my way up to training, I smiled. I looked out to the right to glance at the lake, and noticed a heart shaped cloud off in the distance. Maybe, I thought, I am going to meet someone soon (when you are single chronically like myself, these thoughts come in from time to time).

The snow continued to fall and suddenly my windshield wipers stopped working properly. Ice had formed and the wiper on the drivers side was creating a thin sheet of icy water and slush making it almost impossible to see out the front window. I began to panic and took the next exit off the highway to fix the problem. As I stepped on to the road my shoes began to draw in all the wet slush and ended up with two matching soakers.

I was able to fix my wipers, and back on the highway I merged, now in full anxiety about being late. I made it to my training and when I reached the parking lot, no spaces. I had to park a street over and walk in the slush again before waiting for a long elevator.  I was ten minutes late, I was embarrassed entering a class of people already settled in as I huffed and puffed from my journey, now overtired and a bit cranky. I took the first available spot, and apologized to the room.

I ended up sitting next to a male student in the agency who I had never met before. This did not stop him from being completely creepy and telling me about the girls he picks up at the club, and asking me what clubs I went too. My answer, I don’t, I’m in my thirties. He continued to make sexist comments all day and be completely inappropriate but I was too tired to care and too focused on the clock, anxious to get on the road heading North.

My instructor for the day, is notorious in my agency for being informative but extremely long winded with a series of um’s and ah’s to take up extra time. He indeed went thirty minutes past the scheduled time of completion for the training, which meant I left Hamilton right at rush hour time instead of thirty minutes before.

Before I got on to the traffic infested highway, I made sure to call Bilbo who was already at the resort with other people attending. She said the roads were clear, that the last guest aside from me was almost there and also said the roads were fine so not to worry. I was extremely tired from my crossover from nights and my long day of training but I figured what’s two and a half more hours to travel to a winter getaway.

I hit the traffic and then I hit the weather. As I made my way out of the thick Brampton jam, the roads began to clear in terms of cars but the snow started to fall and blow all over. The sun was setting and causing serious snow blindness as I gripped the wheel and calmly told myself it was all going to be ok.

My speed was slow but as I made my way around a bend somewhere on the 400 my car slid sideways and I almost drove into oncoming traffic and then a wall. My heart was racing and I pulled over at a rest stop figuring now would be a good time to stop for dinner and rest a moment.

I crammed fast food into my gullet, calmed myself and hoped back into my car, texting my friend before I left to say I was fifty minutes away, according to my GPS. It was at this point I should have realized I was the only one turning right out of the rest stop to head North and that as I made my way down the dark highway no one was on the road.

The highway was ice covered, snow covered and next to open fields that started to create moments of complete white out. At first it was temporary and fast and I figured I was as far as I was; best just keep going North.

There was barely a sole on the road aside from the occasional transport truck pulled over, and the snow started to rush out more intensely. The snow squalls the weather network predicted were happening right in front of me.  There were parts where I could see no more than two feet in front of my car and I began to panic.

I was tired, all alone, and driving in a dark and horrific snow storm. I don’t think I realized at that moment how dangerous my decision to keep going was, but I just kept telling myself it would pass. It didn’t. If at all possible, it got worse, but the thought of turning around and doing all that driving again made me even more tired. I left training at three thirty pm, the drive was estimated by GPS at just over two hours and by this time it was almost seven thirty and I was still somehow thirty minutes away.

I started to run out of gas, and luckily made it to a small town with a gas station open. I stood in the storm and filled up my car and outside the weather didn’t seem to bad. As i went in a paid for my gas and of course a diet pepsi, I overheard the cashier say she as just about to close. I assumed it was just a small town with early hours but now realize she meant because of the fucking snow storm happening outside.

Again I pulled out, texting my friend first who was starting to wonder where I was to say GPS is telling me I am twenty minutes away. I told her to get a drink ready and that I needed a good twelve hours of sleep effective as soon as I down my wine and say goodnight.

GPS told me to turn right as I came to the final intersection in an empty town, and as I turned I noted that both heading left and straight were blocked off with barricades reading CLOSED DUE TO EXTREME WEATHER.

Finally, I thought, some actual dumb luck for the day I would be screwed if my road was closed as it was the only road in to my destination from where I was geographically. As I headed down the new highway turn off, the snow piled higher and ahead I started to see yellow flashing lights. It was a sign, the same sigh for the other roads. Everything was fucking closed, and I was stuck.

I pulled into an empty lot and started to cry.

“It’s ok,” I said to myself, “it’s going to be ok, you will find a way there.”
I turned my car around to check the other roads again, but alas I was correct, they were closed and GPS indicated that to get to my destination, there was only one way. I headed back to the closed sign and parked in front of it, wondering if I could just squeeze around it and keep going.

It was at this time, I called Bilbo and when she answered the tears came again. She told me to calm down and that her friend just drove around the sign and was fine, was there drink in hand. I found out she had been there for an hour, and said there was no way the roads weren't as bad as I was saying.

My friend who I love just didn’t seem to understand the emergency I was having and I felt more alone. I said I didn’t know what to do, I was going to call my parents and get them to look up another route if possible. I called my mom, whose voice made me cry more. She tried to calm me and just as I explained my dilemma, an OPP cruiser pulled up next to me and I rolled my window down. As the snow rushed in I greeted the officer staring at me with concern and judgment.

The look on the officers face offended me, he was looking at me like I was some crazy bitch, but in this moment in time I guess the shoe fit.  I was in a small Honda in the middle of a record breaking snow storm where even transport trucks wont drive trying to made my way down a clearly closed road. I was in the middle of no where late at night and he probably was wondering how stupid I could be to be where I was, and he was right.

“What are you doing?” he yelled across the storm from his car to me.

“I am on my way to Collingwood,” I replied.

“Well,” he said curtly “no your not, not anymore.”

I tried to breathe deep, “is there another way?” I said, “I can see this road is closed.”

“No.” he growled. “Best you head back where you came from, everything out here is getting shut down. Don’t even think about using this road, we don’t need any more casualties on it.”

With that he wished me luck and drove off parking far enough he could watch me, but not enough he could help me. I was severely tired, stressed, alone, scared, and now, completely stranded.

I called my mom again in a panic, and she somehow calmed enough to convince me to head south, find a hotel or motel and they would book me a room, as of course I was travelling with no credit card.

I told my friend who sounded disappointed in me I wasn’t able to make it, and then checked my GPS for the closest lodging. It was back about 40 km and down a side road, I felt relieved and slowly started to make my way back down the highway to the turn off.

The county road was as barren as the main highway but I thought nothing of it. I passed a few farm houses and thought about begging for a room but was so close to a motel I knew I could make it the short distance. It took me another forty minutes but when I saw the sign for the Village with the motel I sighed relief. That was until I couldn’t get into their parking lot without a struggle because it wasn’t plowed. Then it sunk in that it wasn’t plowed because there was no one there. Furthermore, the reason was because it was seasonal and it was not the season for this motel. Fucking GPS doesn’t have that information and now I was forty minutes from the main road I needed to head back to; to backtrack more to the nearest city.

I called my mother again, and made my way all the way back to Barrie. I found a Hotel, pulled into a plowed parking space and called my mom to tell her I was safe, and I would call from inside for the card information, I told her I was so happy there was a Boston Pizza across the parking lot and I planned to grab a pint and watch hockey, It was all going to be ok.

As I walked in to the front lobby, I immediately overheard the clerk tell the people in front of me the hotel was full along with all other lodgings in Barrie due to the storm. Fuck me. I said nothing, walked back out into the cold and to my car called my mom and begged for help again.

I ended up driving back more, to Brampton to the Best Western Hotel off the highway because it was the closest place with room. They agreed to take a card over the phone and I was all set. At ten fifty five pm, after being awake and overtired and driving in deadly weather on a route, twice, I finally pulled in to the Best Western and sighed relief again, I was here and I could finally sleep.

I entered the Lobby and approached the desk, and there she was, Cassandra, the front desk clerk. I plopped my stuff down and looked at her, letting out a heavy sigh. I did the usual how are you greeting as I pulled out my wallet.

“You have no idea how happy I am too be here.” I said. “I am pretty sure I almost died out there a few times tonight.” I then went on to explain my mother had phoned and booked me a room.

Her attitude changed from nothing to bitchy right away, and I am not sure why as my mother is an absolute riot, especially on the phone. She then gave me attitude and told me the hotel was doing me a huge favour and that if it was up to her I wouldn’t be staying there without a credit card. I told her I had debit but the hotel didn’t take it, and that I was thankful they agreed to take a card over the phone.

I didn’t want to yell at her, I didn’t want to fight, I just wanted this day to be completely over. She told me they needed information faxed (which my mom was doing at that exact moment from a friends) and that I should sit and wait.

I did just that. I waited for forty minutes while she serviced all other customers. I waited even though I could see the fax that had come through sitting atop the fax machine. I began to huff, I began to puff, I began to feel the rage. I called my mom again, and expressed my anger, telling her I just wanted to go to sleep and didn’t want to end up killing someone at the hotel. My mom said the fax ws sent and told me to breathe.

Finally, after being ignored, I stormed up to the counter, and flagged down the front desk clerk, asserting myself in front of people checking in. She told me he was busy and to sit down, the fax wasn’t there yet.

I pointed to it, and told her it was. She sighed, and said she would help me in a minute, flagging over people that had just walked in to the hotel. She helped them with a friendly attitude, and then she grabbed her cell phone to send a fast text under the desk, which I could see.

Finally, she walked over and began to check me into a room. “You know,” she said with a thick douche like accent “we normally don’t do this for people, so your lucky.”

That was it, that was the one. That was my hair loop. After all I had been through that day, being overtired, getting buttered, dealing with snow and fear and a lack of help from law enforcement, from my windshield wipers to the dick next to me in training, to rush hour traffic and almost crashing, from the cat hiding to the early morning alarm, that comment, pushed me off my cliff.

“Fuck you.” I said as I felt the kettle inside me whistling with steam. “I am a paying customer at this hotel and you should be thanking me for the business. Your attitude is shit, you have been a bitch since the minute I walked in, You ignored me and...”

Well the rest I am not so sure, but as I said, it was me, red faced and spitting while screaming across a hotel lobby reception desk at a Front Desk employee with a crowd of shocked hotel guests watching in horror. All this before dramatically grabbing my room key off the counter and dragging my luggage across the Best Western lobby floor, tears rolling down my face while screaming "THIS PLACE IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS!"

That’s it folks, that’s what it looks like to have one of those days. The thing is, if I dissect it now I can see why I no longer had the ability to keep it in, as I was very angry. It had to do with the culmination of shitty events, but it wasn’t the day that made me scream. It was the emotions underneath it all. What emotions are under anger?

Guilt. I felt guilty I wasn’t able to make it to my friends birthday. I felt like I let her down and that because the weather was to stay this way for a day or two, I knew deep down I wasn’t going to make it and that tomorrow I would be back in Niagara.

Shame. Shame came with this, as I feel sometimes like I don’t give as much into my friendship with Bilbo as she does, and so letting her down just pulled this feeling out.

Fear. I was scared for my life for about seven hours alone in a vehicle and it had snowballed (literally).

Sad. Sad in terms of disappointed, because all I wanted, was a damn vacation after working so hard. It didn’t help that the vacation I tried to take prior was canceled last minute. I am lucky to be able to take trips, but I was annoyed they just weren’t happening.

All these emotions bubbled up all day, added to tired and yes, my cognitive ability to calmly tell the front desk clerk she was not doing a good job was disrupted and out of order.  I was disappointed in the hotel and could have expressed this a bit better. It could have been less publicly embarrassing for me at least, because no one in the lobby knew the day I had, they just watched me loose it.

So in terms of those days, where we just wanna scream, perhaps we need to take a step back and look at the pieces of why we are there emotionally. Maybe its not just the loop in your hair driving you crazy, maybe you just lost your job and it’s “one more thing” that usually you would ignore and simply redo the pony tail. Maybe dropping your coffee on your work station would be laughable if you didn’t fear that your marriage was ending, etc.

Next time you see someone who’s just broken their branch, remember, maybe they got a lot going on and you don’t need to judge them. We’ve all been there.

On a final note, I think I need to tell you what the training was on the day I lost it at Best Western. It was Collaborative Problem Solving. The training was on how to solve emotional issues or conflict in a respectable mature way. Positive communication.

I think it’s safe to say, I failed. Not the training, just the real life simulation.




And no Cassandra, I am not sorry for yelling at you either, you were kind of a bitch, but maybe you were having a bad day too...and if that’s the case, well then I am half sorry. Kinda.