Face It, Crazy People are Hot

Oh, the places my mind can go.  I'm a lot better than I used to be.  Thank goodness I am both cute and smart - you know those pictures of a hot chick bending over, with a caption that reads "Somewhere, some guy is sick of putting up with her shit"?

That could be me.  Thankfully Husband likes my brains as well as my boobs.

A few months ago, Husband made his second trip to Vegas for the Remax Military Long Drive competition.  I remained here in Korea, dealing with things like the children and Korean Death Birds while Husband self-sacrificingly made a solo trip to Sin City in order to try to win me some diamond earrings.  As a military couple, we've been apart plenty - however, due to my occasional bouts of vicious possessiveness separation anxiety (related to past relationships), this has - at times - been a struggle.  However, Husband has grown ever more patient with me, making concessions and compromises in order to facilitate peace and harmony at home (*snicker*).

That's not to say I don't strive to do my part - as evidenced by my mature and experienced handling of the Vegas Phone Call Debacle.

Once Husband landed in Vegas, he purchased a pay-as-you-go cell phone and a phone card, in order to easily contact friends and family in the States (and also so Wife could call and ease her burdened mind).  He also made sure I had the hotel and room number, and we made arrangements for me to call when he'd be in his room so as not to use up too many of the cell minutes.  This arrangement worked out quite well, until about the third day he was in Vegas.  He'd asked me to call at 6am Vegas time, which was about 11pm Korea time, to wake him up so he could get out to the course at a decent time.  After tucking the Vs into bed and curling up into my own, I called the Casablanca Resort and asked for room sixty-ten.  After Kirby the Friendly Front Desk Operator confirmed the name the room was reserved in, he connected my call.  After three or four rings, a sleepy female voice said "H'lo?"

I shot straight the fuck up in bed.  My scalp started tingling, and all of a sudden, even though my room was dark, I could see as well as if there were stadium lights installed in my ceiling.

Unknown female: "Hel-lo? Someone there?"
Me (gagging): "Gerk."
Unknown female: "Who is this?"

Although my tongue was stuck, my brain was not.  I jumped out of bed with my mind racing; the foremost and clearest thought being nofuckingway HE WOULD NOT DARE.  I managed to peel my tongue from the roof of my mouth long enough to go "I'm very sorry; I must have been connected to the wrong room," so fucking help me I swear to Baby Jesus this better be the wrong room. "Sorry for waking you."

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur.  My hands were shaking so hard I couldn't hold the paper with the hotel number on it steady, so I had to go into the kitchen and lay it on the table so I could read it.  Then it took several attempts for me to dial it correctly (being an international call).  Once I finally got Kirby the Friendly Front Desk Operator on the phone, I asked for room six-zero-one-zero and waited again to be connected.  This time, Husband picked up the phone.

Husband: "Hello?"
Me (straining as hard as I can through the phone to hear anything suspicious).
Husband: "Hello? Hello?"
Me (icily): "Good morning, Husband. Sleep well?"
a pause
Husband: "I guess so.  What's up, babe?"
Me: "Oh, NOTHING." is that rustling in the background? Whispering? I press the phone harder to my ear.
Husband: "O-kay... is everything all right?"
Me (scathingly): "Of course it's all right.  Why wouldn't it be all right?  How are you doing, HUSBAND?" did the door just softly close?
Husband (in a long-suffering tone): "Okay, what's going on?"
Me: "Well, Lifemate, I will tell you what's going on. I stayed up til eleven fucking pm in order to wake you up so you could go play golf, and a goddamn female answered the goddamn phone.  So this is my second call.  To your room. To your VEGAS HOTEL ROOM. That's occupied by only you - right, Lifemate?!?"
another pause.  No rustling, only silence.
Husband: "Babe."
Me: "Yes?"
Silence.  Is he laughing?
Me: "Well?!?"
Husband: "Babe... I'm sorry.  That really sucks..."
Me: "ARE YOU ALONE."
Husband: "I'll come clean. I packed a Juicy in one of my duffle bags to keep me company."

Long story short, after a few minutes, I realized that 1). Kirbster the Friendly Hotel Operator had connected me to room sixteen-ten the first time, and 2). the only company Husband had been keeping since he landed on U.S. soil was that of other military golfers.  After assuring me that he'd only had his wiener out to pee and flash at the occasional reveler on the Strip, we said goodbye.

And it only took me another hour and a half to get to sleep.