slowly surely + xyz : a journey of (re)discovery

I AM. Sympathetic

By InspiredJourney


Early morning, the ritual continues.

I mosey to la recepción, where I meet a usual suspect: Magdalene & co. (random guy whose name is never important), after one of her all night benders of full-on drunkeness, extremely loud and disruptive music that kept the few guests and ‘volunteers’ awake throughout the night, literally.

She and I rarely crossed paths. However, when we did, it was only because she’d been up all night drinking and ‘entertaining’ said random males she’d later lay. I note the latter because this was was the second impression she made.

I have mentioned my first impression, and her subsequent backstory of foster care and prostitution here.

The morning of my ‘opening the reception desk’ carried on with her asking guy du jour if they should do something about his inebriated friend. Who, by the way, was sitting on a table pushed up next to a wall where he sat in a drunken sleep with a half empty 40 ounce Indio sitting between his parter thighs.

The friend didn’t give a damn, stated such and left, trailing behind Magdalene leading the way to her den.

Later, while tidying up around the reception, I found the friend laid stretched-out on a wooden bench. He slept until the point where he was no longer there. I never saw the release his hostages bench and beer, nor him never again.

The Result of Magdalene.

A young couple had checked into Hostel Last Stop In Life For Some. I say that because there was an actual long-term tenant that resided in a casita. A 50+ year old man from Switzerland. He had live at this hostel several years, and had no plans to leave in the foreseeable future.

While having a bit of lunch at a sandwich and juice shop, I noticed the couple had decided to have a bite to eat there as well. After they were done ordering, we spoke briefly. They asked me how I felt about the hostel. I gave them my opinion in a diplomatic fashion. I didn’t want to come off as overly critical. I could tell they were looking for some validation, but didn’t voice their entire thoughts as well.

As the next couple days passed, I saw them come and go. All seemed okay, until one day I saw them arrive in a collectivo. The guy was on crutches.

I forget when, but at some point the woman had communicated the reason for him being on crutches was due to a night of ultra loud music coming from the reception, courtesy of Magdalene.

She told the story of them being awakened by the block party that wasn’t. Her beau got up to dress and confront the ‘party girl’ blasting music as if she had contempt for anyone attempting to sleep between the hours of 1 and 5am. In the dark, he stepped in a way that he hit or twisted his knee, which resulted in a sprain or something to that effect. Yes, Magdalene was also a ‘gift giver’ to guests.

I’m not sure the couple ever mentioned this to anyone actually connected with owning or managing the place.

I do know I was infuriated that Old Bar Maid Magdalene persisted in nightly cranking the volume louder and louder, as the hours progressed into the early morning. And that it had adversely someone in a way that may be more serious that losing some hours of sleep.

 Bizarre and sick, is how I describe it being allowed to persist; that the owner nor Fritz really cared to decapitate this issue was beyond me.

It only solidified my approach of not caring to the same degree of these owner operators. This stance later became one of the few issues and resulted in a sit down hash it out with, who else but Margeaux.

The other was related to her sticking her nose in a place it had no place: needless and empty gossip about this Ever guy.

But first, when fruit and liquor and heat combine and expose your mere mortalness.

One response to “I AM. Sympathetic”

  1. […] This conversation only served to emphasize, that in certain capacities, how rad I am and not. […]

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