My wife and I took a vacation to Salem, MA, the site of the infamous witch trials. The trouble began when we reached the "Entering Salem" sign - our trip odometer hit 666.0 miles. We should have turned back, but were blissfully ignorant of what was to come. We had only slept about 10 hours in the past two days, and managed to get lost several times, spending a
good three or four hours trying to find a hotel, but they were all booked up. And lunch that day began to take it's toll on me, blessing me with cramps as a warning to just turn back... I ended up using my VIIx to find numbers for nearby hotels (this was the last time that my little buddy came through for me), and ended up making a reservation over a pay phone in a rather unsavory neighborhood.
We got lost for about an hour trying to find the hotel, but finally arrived, a bit worse for the wear... I went to the desk and was asked for my credit card... it was nowhere to be found... Not believing what was happening we went back to the car to try to find the pay phone in the bad neighborhood that we really had no hope of finding... I was almost blind
with rage and disbelief. My wife was crying. I knew we'd just have to cancel the credit card and drive the ten hours back home...
Something caused my wife to say "Why don't you let me look in your wallet". I'd like to believe it was a last little bit of help, and inspiration, bestowed upon us from the palm's spirit as it left us. I handed her the wallet and not two seconds later she handed me the credit card. I was overjoyed. It was tucked away in a back slot.
We sauntered back into the hotel, my hand gripping my aching belly, only to be told that the computer wasn't accepting the credit card. They checked me in, but I would have to get the bank straight before I checked out...
I got up to the room, took out the palm to get the bank's customer service number, and found the palm dead . It seems as a last farewell, the palm was displaying the datebook alarm for the vacation, as if wishing me happiness for the rest of it... There has never been such a loyal friend...
My wife and I took a vacation to Salem, MA, the site of the infamous witch trials. The trouble began when we reached the "Entering Salem" sign - our trip odometer hit 666.0 miles. We should have turned back, but were blissfully ignorant of what was to come. We had only slept about 10 hours in the past two days, and managed to get lost several times, spending a
good three or four hours trying to find a hotel, but they were all booked up. And lunch that day began to take it's toll on me, blessing me with cramps as a warning to just turn back... I ended up using my VIIx to find numbers for nearby hotels (this was the last time that my little buddy came through for me), and ended up making a reservation over a pay phone in a rather unsavory neighborhood.
