Tally Ho! Tally No.

                                                            Interpret this, as you will.
 Dear you, 

Halloween approaches and things are feeling very ominous, or omen-ish. My first point of scary discussion is about my predicted move to Tallahassee.  I journeyed there again a week or so ago and did another round of house tours with an agent.  The best candidate was a relatively new build in a development.  Clean, two story (which I like), good appliances and bathrooms, good location.  While nothing in Tally is really pedestrian friendly, like other towns and cities we know, at least this location was within walking distance to a library, a little park with trails and a baby lake.  The price was inflated and I had reservations, but compared to the randomness of this 30A beach scene, I decided to say go.  I told the agent to draft the offer; I would sleep on it and call her in the morning.  But then this . . . 

I returned to the hotel, which I have stayed at frequently, and as I enjoyed a cold beer by their little lake, I heard sounds of panic and screams near the front entrance.  I went to check this out and saw a car in flames in the parking lot.  No management or experienced person-in-charge was present.  Apparently, the "authority" assigned to handle this, or anything that might go down, was what appeared to be a sixteen year old girl at the front desk.  She was just standing there and ANSWERING THE PHONE! "Thank you for calling (fill in hotel name).  How may I help you?"  Oblivious.  I slapped the counter and told her to get management, now.  She stared back at me like I had asked her to time travel.  Forget this poor child.  I went out to join the scene, and at least found members of the janitorial/cleaning staff running around with fire extinguishers.  I asked them not to approach the car. (Explosion could be imminent.)  Had they called 911?  Yes. Luckily, the hotel bartender did that. Tick tock. The flames were about to engulf a worker's truck parked next to the burning vehicle and a nearby (formerly) beautiful oak tree.  There was no "commander" on site to hold back the crowd or restrain this worker/guest who might be in extreme danger. Ignoring cautionary advice, he did move his truck, slightly scorched, just as the fire department arrived. Ten minutes later the fire was out. The owner of the car, weeping and screaming outside the hotel entrance, wasn't a guest but a random local who had just been evicted from her apartment. She had nowhere to go. And, according to a hotel maid who comforted her, she had no insurance. Scary. And heartbreaking. She went somewhere with the EMT people who arrived with the firefighters. Fifteen minutes later, the douchebag manager showed up, tucking his plaid shirt into his kakhis. I suppose one must be tucked when pretending to handle an emergency. He passed me at the entrance and I said "You had no one acting as management in your abscence. You abandoned your hotel, your guests, and that child working the front desk. You are a horrible little man. I hope you enjoyed your "massage" break."

His response:  "We don't have 24 hour management here."

My counter-response:  "It's a 24 hour business.  This is a legal and safety issue. And oh by the way, it's five o'clock in the afternoon, not exactly the middle of the night.  Do your job."

The incompetence and the goofiness I witnessed felt like an omen, a signal.  Here, many of the people "in charge" are irresponsible and shifty. If this is how a busy hotel handles business in Tally, what was my future going to be like with similar goofy, dodgy "professionals" I needed to handle my power, cable, Wifi, water, sewer, dental issues etc. etc. etc.? This did not bode well. Just another Florida zip code with the same Florida problems.  Cue spooky Halloween music with a voice whispering "GET OUT; SAVE YOURSELF!"

So, as the remains of the car smoldered, I decided I was out.  I returned to my cold beer, my room, and a hot bath.  I packed and left the next morning.  Of course the shady manager was present then, and when the desk clerk who knows we well asked when I would return, I said "never."  "Why?!!!" "Because I cannot be in a place that lacks intelligence and accountable leadership."  Shady manager could not resist butting in and screeched "that's just your opinion."  "No, you horrible little man, it is an empirical fact."  Exit Joyce.  

I hit the road west back to Seagrove Beach.  At a rest stop I called the real estate agent and said "no deal."  I am out of there.  "Did you pray on it?"  She really asked me that.  Bless her heart. I suppose in my own world-immersed way I did "pray on it". Amen.

Well, that was fun. I really enjoyed my little trips to Tally.  But, something scary hovers there. Maybe it's the Ted Bundy thing. Anyway, Tally Ho! is now Tally No!  Live and learn and begin the search again . . .

Back in Seagrove Beach, the scene was as usual.  This time the maniacs were Fall Breakers (are these kids ever in school?).  This week is calmer and deceptively lovely since the air has cooled.  But I cannot be lulled into complacency because:

1. The very MAGA HOA board for my condo just raised my fees from $517 to $700 a month.  (The notice said something about covering the cost of "free" internet. Don't ask. They are dumb as hell.  Yes, I am so happy to pay for our "free" internet. Whatever. And of course, something about skyrocketing property insurance costs.  This, thanks to those dudes in Tally who are rolling in dough because they are complicit in and profiting from every aspect of inflation.  Don't blame Hurricane Ian or Mother Nature.)

2. Florida is tilting back towards a win for Governor DeathSantis and Senator Little Marco Rubio. I still have hope, but ... you know.

3. I don't have real neighbors here and when something old-lady happens, I might need help. Like yesterday when I bounced up the stairs to my unit carrying heavy grocery bags and then bent to fix this insulation strip that keeps sticking out of my door frame.  One heavy bag was on my left shoulder, another on my right shoulder, a third in the crook of my right arm, and the fourth (a half dozen eggs) was held protectively in my left hand.  While squatting to do that insultation fix with my right hand, I lost my balance. With those heavy bags hanging off of me like a pack mule and no free hand to restore balance, I tottered and fell.  On my butt.  Because I didn't want to drop the eggs. God in heaven, I am approaching that phase of life where my decision making is whacked.  My old self (or rather my younger self) would have dropped those eggs so she could grab the door and get steady in a heartbeat. Anyway, achy butt aside, no real harm done. This time. Keep in mind my broken hip days are looming large and nobody is next door to intervene.  My neighbor-next-door now, across the landing, doesn't exist.  The unit is an Airbnb.  No comment.  I hope the owner posts my butt-fall, captured by their door security camera, on YouTube. Category: Old people are funny.

4.  Flesh eating bacteria is spreading throughout the state. How apropos. Florida is highly resistant to culture, education, green energy, responsible governance, fitness, reproductive choice, or anything "woke". But flesh eating organisms?  Come on in! Our state mascot should be bacteria.

Enough.  All that to simply say, decision made.  Tally Ho?  Tally No.

The exploration continues . . .

Happy (?) Halloween.

Joyce