Anybody ever read those Hunter Thompson books about his "trips" while experiencing the effects of psychodelic drugs? One title I remember was "On the trail to Las Vegas" (I think) anyway, after our recent trip south, it has occured to me that who needs psychodelic drugs to experience or see life differently when one has brain damage?
These two strokies made a few mistakes(who was supposed to be paying attention??) but it gave us a real good laugh afterwards. The town we stayed in was a tourist town with miles and miles of hotels. These hotels were all high rises and all looked alike. We came back after dinner one night, walked into the lobby, stopped cause the elevator looked different. Bill walks back out of the hotel, I have no idea what he's doing and I'm tired so I seat myself on the red plush sofa that is just chock full of pillows. I sink back into the pillows, completely enjoying the relaxing moment, I sit up and look around the lobby. The thought keeps niggling at my mind that the lobby is completely wrong, but I can't put my finger on if it is wrong cause of bad color choices or furniture arrangement..... I see Bill outside the doors motioning me to come outside. I wave to him and sink back and close my eyes for a minute, when I look again, Bill is motioning harder to come outside. I heave a deep sigh and get up and walk outside, he starts walking towards the truck.
I ask where we're going? He said it will only be a minute. It suddenly strikes me! I know whats wrong with the lobby! I turn to Bill and ask him. "We're at the wrong hotel, aren't we?"He grins and says "yup". Well I was awful cozy at the wrong hotel. We had a good laugh at that one.
The following day, we were on our way back up to our room, an older couple got on the elevator with us, the man starts casually chatting with me about my leg. Anyway I am chatting away with them both, the elevator stops, I get off and still chatting with the older couple, start to walk away from the elevator with them.. The man stops and says Wait! You're on the wrong floor! I turn around to see Bill holding the elevator door for me, grinning. Talk about an embarrassing moment.
So I see it as who needs drugs? I've got brain damage, that is amusing enough all by itself. I live each day like Mr. Magoo, always getting in binds by being unaware, but always pulling out of it.