Titillating Tales of Terrible Tourists, v.1: Fat Girls in Dresses

As you may or may not be aware, I am now a professional tour guide. Oh yeah, that's right, I stand backwards on a bus and talk into a microphone. Yes, I AM in charge of a group of 40 adults who may or may not act like children. On the whole, it's a pretty fun gig. I started leading wine tours on the weekends back in April. I had a rough start, but I think that's to be expected when you start a new job. Sure I didn't know much about wine when I started, but I can masquerade around as an expert with the best of them (or perhaps maybe just some of them). If nothing else I've got a comedy routine going that sometimes works and sometimes falls flat.

When I left my job and started doing this full time, I was, admittedly a little nervous. Thankfully, I had the BEST tour EVER on my first Monday. Everything clicked. Everyone on the bus was awesome, and they all were on board with the Cardelia Boardeaux show. Then, just one week later, I had the WORST tour ever (It could be the worst tour yet, but you'll have to decide that once you read my tales of woe).

Worst.Tour.Ever. aka. Fat Girls in Dresses

It was Day 5 of five tours in a row, and I was exhausted. All week I fell asleep on my couch by 7:45, and I woke up bright and early at 6 o'clock. I felt like I was living the movie, Groundhog's Day. Every morning I woke up and found myself on a bus saying the same thing. Occasionally, I would start searching for people who were on my tour the day before. It got confusing, but eventually I got the hang of it. Then I woke up on Day 5.

Sure I was tired. Sure I didn't really want to be there, but I'm a trooper. The day before my fellow guide and I decided to do tequila shots on the ferry. There was no real reason for it. We both had mediocre tours that were far from profitable on the tips front (and I'll talk more about that later), so we decided to let off some steam. What I didn't know was that I should have held off on those tequila shots until the next day—because I would need them.

Back to my tale… I got to the ferry building, and I went through the whole check-in process. I wandered over to my group, greeted them and collected their boarding passes. Then I turned around to check for the bus…and it wasn't there. I called the bus driver…and he didn't pick up. I called the check-in person, and she wasn't helpful at all. I called the bus driver again. He promised that he would be there in five minutes and wouldn't tell me where he was. I gathered the group, and we waited. Still no bus. I called again. He was at the gas station. Uhhh…what? He promised me ten minutes. I tried to entertain the group. They weren't happy. I called again. Ten minutes. And again. Ten minutes. I was not happy. At long last he pulled up (and by "long last" I mean that he arrived 30 minutes after we were supposed to leave). Rather than pay attention to what was on the sidewalk and where I was positioned with the group, the driver parked and opened the door in front of a huge pile of garbage, thus forcing the already annoyed guests to navigate around said trash bags in order to enter the bus.

Once on board, I apologized to the guests (again) for the delay and started my spiel. When I got to the part where I explain that the wineries have tasting fees that are not included in the price of the tour, two women in the back raised their hands and started yelling at me. They were under the mistaken impression that they could drink the wine without paying for it. I attempted to calm them down while I was at the front, but they weren't willing to let it drop. That, unfortunately, resulted in an argument between the people in the front of the bus versus the two ladies in the back. People were yelling back and forth at each other about the fact that the website DOES in fact state that tasting fees are not included. In an attempt to bring order to the bus, I suggested that the two ladies in the back have a private talk with me when I'm not on the microphone. I really wasn't in the mood for a riot. I mean, we started off bad not having a bus and all, so the guests were ready to fight.

The tour continued, I gave some hilarious commentary that made no one laugh, and then I decided to suck up some time by handing out water and trying to win everyone over with a little one on one attention. As I made it to the back of the bus, I happened upon three girls from Chicago (this, of course, was after the two ladies in front of them complained about the tasting fees and accused me of entrapment, but then took back that accusation since they recognized that I was merely the messenger…and, for the record, entrapment is the wrong term anyway). The girls weren't terribly friendly (and one of them was quite rude), but were willing to tell me that they were from Chicago and insisted that I give them bottles of water. One of them was on her cell phone and wanted to know exactly what time we were going to be at each winery. Apparently, they had a friend that was following the bus in her car and meeting them at each winery (and yes, that is weird). I chose to just let it go.

Back at the front of the bus, I continued with the tour. As we got closer to the first winery, I had to start collecting money for the tasting. Once again, I got an earful from the ladies in the back that started the full bus argument over tasting fees. As it turns out, they were in San Francisco because their husbands, who are cardiologists, were in town for a big medical convention. That knowledge did not make me feel sorry for them. The girls from Chicago gave me some trouble because they wanted to know exactly what their options were (and the one was still on the phone…and grilled me once again on exactly what time we would be at each winery). Then, I got to the three guys in the very back. As it turned out, two of them worked for a wine company and wanted to know if their tastings were free. Having never encountered this, I had no idea, but I was more than happy to figure it out. I suggested they just ask the wineries directly, since I have nothing to do with the actual money handling (with the exception of collecting the money upfront for the first winery, so that there is only one payment instead of forty individual ones).

Once inside the winery, the guys were able to get their free tastings, and the tour went well (There was one little thing that could have been trouble, and that's when the docent likes to make a joke about me taking the tasting fees on the bus and keeping the money for myself. You can imagine that this doesn't sit well with me or the people that believe they are being ripped off in the first place). We headed back to the bus, and I made nice with the driver (we did have to work together as a team all day, so a grudge really wasn't going to do me any good). The group was back on the bus, and we headed to the next winery (where we had lunch). I gave my commentary along the way, and things seemed okay. We got to the lunch spot, and I wandered around, checking on the guests to make sure all was well. We had an hour and a half there, and I then took on my role as "sheep dog" when we got to the 10-minute countdown for our departure time. I stumbled upon the Chicago girls that were dining with their friend that was following the bus in her car, and I politely let them know it was time to leave. They ignored me, and I still chose not to think much of it, even though, for whatever reason, I felt somewhat uncomfortable around them.

We all piled back on the bus and headed to the next winery. It's an easy one to get to…but it wasn't my day. The driver turned onto the street before the entrance of the winery. He then tried to turn the bus around in a private driveway that was too small for the task, so he tried another driveway. Everyone was annoyed (myself included), and I didn't know what to do or say to divert everyone's attention from the obvious, and very embarrassing, mistake. As I looked to the back of the bus, I saw the girls sneering at me. It really wasn't my day.

We made it to the winery, walked in, and the wine guys from the back asked if they could do the tasting for free. Unfortunately for them, they were denied. Unfortunately for me, they made a big stink and were quite vocal about it. I wanted desperately to separate myself from the situation, but I couldn't escape it. A couple of other guests walked into the tasting late, so I offered to take care of it at the register while they got their glasses of wine with the rest of the group. I walked up to the counter where the three guys were sorting out their situation next to the three girls from Chicago who were buying a glass of wine each.

I was standing between the two groups (within inches of the three girls, mind you), waiting for the salesperson to help me when this conversation started.

Wine Guy: I don't understand why this is such an issue. I mean, come on, this is really bad customer service.
Fat Girl 1: The problem is this tour. It sucks.
(The guys walked away to join the tasting in the other room)
Fat Girl 1: Actually the problem is that crazy tour guide. She's so weird and annoying. What's her problem? She's really stupid.
Me: (Stunned and unable to hold my tongue, I started speaking without even looking at them.) I am standing right here.
(A sudden hush fell over the room.)
Fat Girl 2: (Whispering loudly.) Oh my god, she's standing there.
Fat Girl 1: (Also whispering loudly.) God, what's her problem? She's so weird.
Me: Still here. Still not deaf.
Fat Girl 1: (Continuing to whisper loudly whilst standing 2 inches away from me.) Can you believe her? What a loser.
Me: And you are being very rude.

The fat girls in dresses then completed their transaction and exited the winery to sit outside with their friend that drove her car alongside the bus. I paid for the additional tastings and went to the bathroom to try and talk myself out of crying. That's right, they got to me. I suddenly felt like I was in the 7th grade. I was completely baffled by the whole situation. What had I done to those girls? I was nice. I could see they didn't want to talk to me, so I didn't force myself upon them. I'm pretty sure I wasn't acting crazy, and I know I'm not stupid. But all of this knowledge wasn't enough to prevent me from feeling ganged up on and miserable. They called me names! Who does that when they are in their mid to late 20's? Why?

I pulled it together and went to the tasting room to be around the rest of the group, trying my best not to look out the window at the place where the girls were sitting. The woman leading the tasting approached me a couple times to see if I was okay. She didn't know what was going on, but she acknowledged that I was obviously having a bad day and offered me a couple pieces of chocolate as a pick-me-up.

The tasting ended, and it was time to get back on the bus. I gathered up the troops, and as the Chicago girls got on the bus, they gave me dirty looks. I was totally flabbergasted. What did I do? I didn't call them names! They called me names. They were the ones being rude. I felt so down about the whole thing that I just gave up. I announced to everyone that we were heading to our final winery, and I sat down (since I fortunately had a chair that day—sometimes I have to stand the entire time, and that wouldn't have worked out very well on this particular day). I opted to talk to the people close to me, and as I glanced toward the back of the bus, I saw the girls shooting me more dirty looks.

We got to the next winery, and I hung around the guests long enough to help the wine guys from the back of the bus get their free tasting, then went back to the bus to talk to the driver. He told me his story of the morning, which did sound pretty harrowing. As it turned out, it wasn't entirely his fault that he was late. There was an unfortunate chain of events that occurred. Of course, there were a couple of things he could have done that would have prevented the situation, or at least, lessened it, but I decided to just let it go. I revealed to him my issue with the girls in the back.

Our time ended at the final winery, and the group was back on the bus. I explained that we had a 45-minute drive to the ferry and offered to give me people suggestions on restaurants for the evening. I had no plans to make it to the back of the bus in those 45 minutes, so I lingered as long as I could with each person. As I was talking on the microphone and walking along the aisle, I noticed that the guys in the back decided to join forces with the girls. They were all mocking me. Yep, I was back in the 7th grade. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't angry with the guys. I helped them all day long. The least they could do was to be nice to me.

We got to the ferry, and the girls sneered at me as they exited the bus. Everyone boarded the ferry, and I did everything I could to avoid the top floor where they fat girls had planted themselves. When I saw my fellow tour guide, I told her about my day, and she went on a mission to find the girls and the guys. Apparently, she talked to the guys and mentioned that she knew they gave me a hard time. She also saw the girls and reported back that they looked like bitches.

After killing as much time as I could on the bottom floor, I decided to be an adult and face the second floor. I saw the guys and the girls sitting near each other in separate booths. I wanted nothing more than to just avoid them all, but I opted to approach the guys. They were very nice to me, and I insinuated that their behavior on the bus was less than acceptable after how much effort I put into helping them get free tastings. They tried to egg on the situation and get me to approach the girls, but I opted to just let them be.

The ferry docked, and I exited the boat first, planting myself outside to say goodbye to all of the guests (and collect any tips that might come my way). The guys came off the ferry, thanked me for the trip, and didn't tip me. Then they asked me if I could give them the address for a restaurant. Yeah, that takes nerve. More people from my tour were exiting the boat, so I asked the guys to step to the side, telling them that I would help them later. At that point, at least five people walked up to me and tipped me. When I saw the fat girls from Chicago walk out of the terminal, I noticed they were doing everything they could to not look at me and be invisible. Not being one to ignore this sort of behavior, I chose to step directly in front of them and thank them for their patronage, adding that it was a real pleasure to have them on the tour.

Bitches.

The crowd left, and I turned to the guys that were still waiting patiently for the restaurant information. I approached them and offered up the info. That's when I got the apology.

Wine Guy: So, we're assholes, huh?
Me: Yep.
Wine Guy: Especially since we didn't tip you.
Me: Uh, yeah. Especially after encouraging the conflict between those girls and I.
Wine Guy: So, what are you doing right now?
Me: Not sure.
Wine Guy: Want to have dinner with us? We're buying.
Me: Okay. Can my friend come? (I gestured to my fellow tour guide.)
Wine Guy: Of course.
Me: Then let's go.

And we had dinner and drinks and drinks and late night eats. It was fun, and they told me why the girls hated me (and revealed to me that the girls were angry with them for talking to me on the ferry). Apparently they were angry from the get-go because I talked and gave commentary. For whatever reason, when they signed up for a guided tour of the wine country, they seemed to be under the impression that a guided bus tour is like a private limo ride. Also, they really didn't want to be on a bus with other people. Knowing that their friend was driving alone in her car to all of the wineries, I just wondered…why did they drop $300 on the tour when they could have just been in her car with her for a fraction of that? And why was any of this my fault? I was just doing my job.

Bad tour. Bad, bad tour.