My Sister vs. The Kilted Bell Boy - Jamie Farrell

My Sister vs. The Kilted Bell Boy

photo 2When my mom and sisters and I flew in for our girls’ weekend, it took three travel itineraries to get us all here. Mom and my youngest sister flew together, my middle sister flew later in the day from the same place, and I flew in from DC.

My middle sister was the last to get there. She was scheduled to arrive in San Francisco around 9 PM Saturday night, but weather mucked up her connecting flight and then delayed it, which meant she pulled into the hotel about 11:30.

Without her bags.

And, y’all, her bags had our matching T-shirts for our Napa Valley winery tour day!

But sometime in the middle of the night, the airline delivered her bags to the hotel. She and I were sharing a room (Mom and our baby sister were in another room), so I snuck up and out of bed around 5 AM, got showered, and sat down to sneak in an hour of writing time. But she woke up, we started chatting instead, and she called down to the desk to have her bags brought up.

Ten minutes later, the bell boy knocked on the door.

She handed me a couple dollars for a tip. “Can you get that?” she said. She was still in bed. And– “I’m not wearing pants.”

So I went to the door and opened it for the bell boy, who was a very nice young man who was also quite concerned. “They only brought one bag,” he said. “I don’t know where the rest of the bags are.”

I leaned back into the room. “Hey,” I called to my sister, “did you have just one bag, or more than one?”

“Just one,” she yelled back.

The bell boy eyed me.

Because it was suddenly obvious that the bag was not actually mine.

“It’s okay,” I stage whispered to him. “She’s not wearing any pants.”

He nodded sagely, took his tip, and let me wheel the bag into the room.

Where my sister was glaring at me. “You told him I wasn’t wearing pants!” she shrieked. (She kinda has the same tone as our mom when she loses a shoe off the cable car.)

“Oh, come on,” I said. “He doesn’t know what you look like. You two could have a full conversation later today, and he’d never know you were the one who wasn’t wearing any pants this morning. Besides, I can promise you, at some point today, he wasn’t wearing any pants either.”

She cocked an eye at me, and then suddenly dissolved into giggles. “Now I’m picturing my bell boy in a kilt,” she said.

And then I was picturing Jamie Fraser delivering my sister’s bags, and suddenly I wished our bell boy had been in a kilt. And that he’d come back.

Ah, well. We all have our regrets.

Hope y’all have a great Wednesday!

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Leave a Comment:

Gretchen says September 17, 2014

too funny

marcyshuler says September 17, 2014

Umm…you mean it’s not normal to picture random guys wearing kilts? *Marcy slinks away to hide*

    Jamie Farrell says September 18, 2014

    LOL, Marcy! 🙂 It can absolutely be normal. 🙂 And now I’m curious – who do you want to see in a kilt?

      marcyshuler says September 18, 2014

      My hubby. The mailman. The psychiatrist my hubby and I used to work with and who blushed every time my hubby or I told him I kind of lusted over him. Uh…I could go on. I like legs. 😀

        Jamie Farrell says September 18, 2014

        You know, if more mailmen wore kilts, that old joke – “Where did your baby get her red hair?” “From the mailman.” – would be taken a lot more seriously.

          marcyshuler says September 20, 2014

          Ahh…but my guys came upon their red tint the natural way. From both their mother and their father. LOL

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