Titillating Tales of Terrible Tourists, v.6: A Tale of Two Carnies, or The Ballad of Scowling Poodle-Face

Well this is a long overdue tale of the most draining tour I've had this summer.  Now is a good time to tell the tale because I'm with another group of Carnies, AND I recently ran into someone that had experienced all that is Scowling Poodle-Face.

My second tour of the season was, by far, the worst.  Sure, I've had someone get injured on 67% of my tours.  And sure, 50% of those injuries required a hospital visit and involved broken bones, but this tour was still poke-your-eyes-out bad.  What makes a tour bad?  Is it terrible things happening at random?  Rain? Lost luggage? Rabid dinosaurs brought back to life by an evil scientist?  No.  It's people.  And sometimes, it just takes one.

From the get-go, I was apprehensive about the tour.  I know this may make me sound like a bit of a snob, and I really don't intend to (since, technically, I fall into this demographic), but the reason for my lack of enthusiasm was that this tour was a budget tour for budget travelers.  Don't get me wrong, it's still not cheap clocking in at a grand for just the land portion of the tour (and that's for 4 days, mind you), but it is infinitely cheaper (and substantially sub par) when compared to the other available tours.  As a result, the people that purchased this tour were very different than my other guests.  Many were very nice.  Most of them were first-time group travelers.  And some of them were simply awful.

The meet and greet day was fine.  Slowly but surely I met my collection of travelers.  They ranged from Willard, the 83-year-old solo traveler who was quickly approaching the time in his life when he had no business traveling to the large group of non-English-speaking French-Canadians to my biker couples from Ohio who wanted to know where they could buy some weed (and were under the mistaken impression that it's legal in Alaska).  In total, I had 32 guests, and, to be fair, the majority of them were nice.  I don't want to go as far as saying delightful, but they were nice people.  If the nice people were the only ones there, I would have had a MUCH better time.  But they weren't.  Instead, I had the angriest people alive.

I met four of the five Angries during the meet and greet.  They seemed fine.  They seemed tired and a bit miffed that they were awake, but they seemed fine.  They were two couples from upstate New York.  The husbands seemed like they were in to have a good time, and the wives, well, the wives were pleasant.  A few people did not show up for the meet and greet, so I left notes under their door instructing them to find me the next morning in the lobby before we took off for the train.  And that's when I first met Poodle-Face.

I showed up bright and early at 6:00 AM to greet my guests, most of whom were not there yet (since they didn't have to show their smiling faces until 7:00 AM).  I stood there, arranging name tags as guests from unescorted (read: not led by a Tour Director) tours kept badgering me about giving them a name tag (which I don't do because they are not part of my group) and basically yelling at me because they feel all left out and confused, which just prompts me to eventually tell them that the reason they didn't get a Tour Director is that they didn't pay for one (and that never goes well).  As I greeted people and made myself appear useful, I saw the first four Angries.  The wives didn't seem terribly happy (and I would later learn that they just weren't happy people). I handed them their name tags.  Then, out of nowhere, a woman of less than 5' in stature with a helmet of hair and a scrunched up face approached me.

"Are you Cardelia?" She barked in her thick southern twang.

"Yes."

"Is this all I have to do?" She shoved her completed information form into my hand.

"Yes, thank you.  It's nice to..."

"I'll be over there."  She cut me off and stomped away muttering to herself.

It wasn't how I generally like to start with people.  Usually, I make an effort to do a formal introduction explaining my role in their lives for the next few days.  She wasn't interested, I guess.  Eventually, our coach pulled up, and I loaded everyone onto it.  As we drove the 10 minutes to the train station, I explained a little about the train ride and what would happen once we reached Denali.  Even during that 10-minutes drive, the four Angries complained that they were sitting too long.  I heard things like, "We hardly had a chance to see Fairbanks."  To which, I could only reply, "Well, you chose the tour." (ed. If I haven't already mentioned it, this is not a tour that I personally would choose. It is flawed.  Very flawed.)

Once we were all loaded (and hopefully happy) on the train, I walked down the aisle.  Poodle-Face stopped me to inform me that her insulin was in the refrigerator next to the bar.  As she informed me of this she also pointed out that someone else had to help her because I was nowhere to be found (which, just to defend myself here, I wasn't on the car because I was too busy loading their 75 bags onto the train, so I had an excuse).  I promised her that I would remind her of the whereabouts of her insulin, then sat down.  When I sat down, my coworker approached me to tell me about her.  He apparently helped her out with the insulin, then she yelled at him for being too tall and blocking her view of the train yard (this, of course, was in lieu of a "thank you").

The train started up, we rolled through the Alaskan countryside.  I tried to sell optional excursions, but hit several road blocks.  The four Angries didn't want to spend any money.  The other folks thought everything was too expensive.  Most people felt they didn't have enough time in Denali (which I won't argue since it was a crappy tour).  Poodle-Face and her gang (which, I should probably describe.  They consisted of her husband.  A tiny man who was shy as all get-out and truly seemed surprised anytime I said hello to him and her two friends who were ever-so lovely) decided to purchase the Dog Sled Ride for the next morning.

Throughout most of the train ride, I spoke with the nice people and occasionally found myself attempting to smile at Poodle-Face.  She just gave me dirty looks.  After four long hours, we pulled into Denali.  I passed out their key packets, we loaded a coach, and I explained our day.  We had 45 minutes before they were to go on their tour of the park.  I explained (as I had explained the day before and on the train ride) that they should get food before going on the tour.  Everyone was dropped off at their rooms, and I went back to the main lobby to wait for them.

The first to show up were the four Angries.  They didn't like their rooms.  Apparently, they weren't fancy enough (which was the same complaint they made about the rooms at the hotel in Fairbanks).  I gave them some line about Alaska being rustic (which is true; however, if they had splurged a bit more, they might have ended up in nicer accommodations).  They also were very upset at the cost of food.  I explained to them that food in Alaska is more expensive than it is in the Lower 48 because it all has to be shipped in (think Hawaii).  They were convinced that they were being ripped off, and they were mad that they were sitting so much, to which I could only apologize and remind them that they were on a group tour (designed for the elderly), and that's just the way the cookie crumbles.

As I was going through all of this, Poodle-Face pushed her way through the crowd and started in on me.

"Cardelia, Cardelia!" She shouted at me.

"Yes?"

"I have a problem!  My room doesn't have a refrigerator, and I told them I needed a refrigerator.  I have diabetes, and I need to put my insulin in the refrigerator.  They know I need this!"  Poodle-Face yelled at me in the midst of an enormous crowd.

Smiling, with a look of concern, I replied, "I'll look into it.  You did move into the room 3 hours early, so that might be the issue."

"No, that's not the issue!" She squawked back. "I need a refrigerator.  I put it on the bed.  Hopefully it doesn't ruin.  If it's not cold when I get back, I'll die."

Feeling the melodrama, I said, "Well, I'll look into it while you are away on the tour."

"The ice machine is broken in my building."

"Okay, I'll check on that too.  Did you try the ice machine at the other two buildings next to you?"

"What?  That is too far! (ed. The buildings are about 10 feet away from each other and the distance is smaller than what she would have walked in an enclosed hotel to get to the ice maker or the elevator)."

"Okay," I just wanted her to leave. "I'll look into it."

She stood there for a minute, started to walk off, then turned.  "Cardelia, Cardelia!  My blood sugar needs Subway, or I'm gonna die!"

Knowing that this wasn't a joke, I tried not to laugh. "Well, then I guess you should walk your blood sugar over there."

"I am!  This place is too expensive.  It's a rip-off."

"I'm sorry you feel that way."  My smile was glued on.

"I'm gettin' a $5 foot long.  Don't let them leave without me."

"They won't leave without you, and the foot longs are $9."

"What?!"  She was incredulous.

"It's Alaska." I smiled and started waving.  "Hurry back."

She and her crew ran off.  I continued directing people to the best of my abilities.  They came back just as the buses were arriving for the tour.  As they boarded the bus, Poodle-Face scowled and informed me that "This place is a rip-off!"  Her sentiments were echoed throughout the bus.  Luckily, I didn't have to go with them, so I stood there on the sidewalk, waving as the bus pulled away with all of my unhappy guests.

While they were gone, I checked on the refrigerator situation.  I didn't have to explain much about the guest in question, as the front desk staff knew exactly about whom I was talking.  A refrigerator was delivered to the room an hour after the tour left.  

Feeling good that the situation was resolved, I was ready to meet the group when they returned after five hours.  The bus pulled up, I eagerly greeted them, asking them if they had a good time.  The four Angries were still angry and hungry.  They didn't heed my advice about getting food before the tour.  They also told me that they didn't see anything.  In fact, all they saw was a couple of bears, some caribou, and a lynx.  Yeah, an effing lynx!  No one sees those!  And a couple of bears?!  That's a good day.  I directed them to a nearby restaurant since they made it clear to me that the hotel restaurants were far too expensive.

When Poodle-Face emerged, I proudly approached her and told her that the refrigerator was delivered, so she needn't worry about her insulin.  Rather than thanking me, she asked, "What about the ice machine?"  I informed her that it was, in fact, still broken, but that the ice machines in the two other buildings may be in working condition.  This answer was not good enough for her, and she yelled, "That is unacceptable!  I need ice!  If I don't get ice, I'm gonna die!"  To which I replied, "I'll see what I can do."

Once they had all vacated the lobby, I approached the front desk, and the manager personally delivered a bucket of ice to Poodle-Face.  She never said thank you.

That night, I went to the bar and made poor choices.

The next morning, I greeted everyone in the main lobby as we waited for our coach transfer to the train station.  Poodle-Face and her motley crew returned from their Dog Sled Ride excursion and the woman was smiling.  I didn't think it was physically possible for her to do such a thing.  She was so happy.  I even thought that it might be a good day.  Too bad it wasn't.

We arrived at the train station, and I looked for the guests that went ahead of the coach (because there is a visitor's center next to the train station, and I encourage people to go there beforehand for all of the free fun that it holds).  I spotted the four Angries, and one of the wives was near tears.  As I approached, she shot me the look of death.

"Hi!  How are you?" I asked, hopeful that I could turn that frown upside-down.

"Not good."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

And then she started screaming, "This tour is awful.  Everything is too expensive.  You didn't tell us about any of the free stuff.  You only told us about the things you have to pay for."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, but I did tell you to come to the visitor's center since you opted not to purchase any of the optional excursions."

"Well, we came here, but you didn't mention anything about the dog sled presentation.  That started at 10, and we didn't get here until 10:15, and it was over." (ed. If a free presentation lasts less than 15 minutes, is it really such a loss that you didn't get to see it?)

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

"I bet you are!"  She yelled at me.

Her husband then walked up to me and ranted about how awful everything was and how angry he was about the tour and how it was a waste of money.  Again, all I could do was remind him that he chose it.

Once he finished, her friend walked over to me and said, "You're doing a great job.  This is no reflection on you whatsoever."

And then the train came.

We boarded the train.  I walked through to make sure everyone was situated.  As I approached Poodle-Face, her smile was quickly dissipating.  Then she asked, "How long is this train ride anyway?"  And the answer was...8 hours.  And then the smile was gone, and she was angrily muttering to herself once again.  I opted to go to an empty car and sit alone.  Occasionally, I walked through my car to talk to my guests.  The Angries complained that they were sitting too much.  The French-Canadians were really nice; however, they were upset that we wouldn't have much time in Anchorage.  (Later on one of my comment cards, I learned that one of the French-Canadians would have preferred the train ride more if we had had a disco ball and bingo.  Weirdos.)  When dinner was announced, Poodle-Face told the waiter she wanted to eat in the last seating  After a half an hour, she called me over.

"Cardelia, Cardelia!"

"Yes?"

"When do I get to eat?  They told me I could eat, but that was 2 hours ago.  I have diabetes, and if I don't eat now, I'm gonna die!"

What I wanted to say was, "Well, that would just mean I'd have to do a little extra paperwork.", but what I actually said was, "I'll see what I can do."

Sure enough, the waiter came up and brought her down to eat.  As she returned, she complained that it was too expensive.

After eight long hours, we pulled into Anchorage.  I got everyone and their luggage loaded onto the coach, and we drove over to the hotel.  As promised, I sat in the lobby for over an hour, awaiting my guests' complaints.

First down: The Angries.

The angrier of the wives approached me.  "There's not hair dryer in my room.  My friend has a hair dryer.  Why don't I?"

I went to the front desk and was told that it was probably in the drawer.  The Angry had disappeared, so when she returned I suggested she look in the drawer.  Apparently, she was one step ahead of me. "Oh, I looked in the drawer.  It was there.  Thanks for nothing."

Yeah.

Second down: Poodle-Face (who, I forgot to mention sleeps with a scowl on her face, leading me to believe that it IS, in fact, possible to have your face freeze that way.)

She stomped out of the gift shop toward me, barking, "Cardelia, Cardelia!"

"Yes?"

"Do you know how much a bag of chips costs in there?"  She meant business.

"Uhh...I'm guessing it's more than you're willing to spend?"

"Five dollars!  FIVE DOLLARS!  That is ridiculous.  It's a rip-off!"

"I'm sorry you feel that way."  I smiled, whilst giving her a look of concern.

"Where's the grocery store?  I need to go to the grocery store.  I need to buy some chips or somethin'."  Poodle-Face was just revving up for the rampage.

"Well, the closest grocery store is almost two miles away.  You'll have to take a cab."

"A what?!  That's ridiculous!  You know, that train was awful.  They didn't have anything to eat.  No bread, no chips, no crackers.  I have diabetes, and I have to eat, or I'll die!"

(ed. Now I'm not expert on diabetes, but I'm pretty sure that you are NOT supposed to eat bread and chips and crackers.  I could be wrong, but I think those are the main culprits of the disease, thus making them "no-no's".)

I sighed, plastered on my smile, and offered to help.  "Well, I don't think there's a convenience store, but maybe the front desk will know of one.  Let me check with them."  She followed me over to the front desk.  

As I waited to pose my question, Poodle-Face asked, "Did you see how much that breakfast buffet costs?  Did you see?!"

"Too much?" was my only reply.

"You're damn right!  $16.95 for a breakfast buffet?  You gotta be kiddin' me.  That's outrageous!  You keep forcing us to eat at expensive places."

"Well, it is a hotel restaurant.  Those aren't known for their bargain prices.  But, as I pointed out on our way into the hotel, there are plenty of restaurants that will be open in the morning.  You don't have to eat the breakfast buffet at the hotel."

"And I most certainly will not!"  She then shot me a dirty look (or just looked at me with her normal face).

Just then, the front desk agent asked how she could assist us.  I asked her if there was a convenience store nearby where my guest could buy chips and her first response was to point us to the gift shop.  I tried to stop her, but it was too late.

"I have BEEN to the gift shop thank you very much.  I will NOT spend five dollars on a bag of chips.  It's a rip-off.  A RIP-OFF!  You people are ripping us off.  I'm onto you!"  Poodle-Face was irate.

The agent simply apologized and suggested a convenience store around the corner; however, both she and I agreed that it was probably closed.  Poodle-Face then flew off the handle about the price of the breakfast buffet and was greeted with the same calm apology from the desk agent.

Unhappy with everything, she turned to walk away.  Stopped.  Then turned around and yelled, "I am never EVER coming back here again.  This state is AWFUL.  I will NEVER come here...and none of my friends will either!!"  Then she stomped off toward the exit.  I just stood there, shrugged my shoulders, and resumed my position next to my chair.

Within two minutes, Poodle-Face stomped back in.  Clearly, she didn't make it to the convenience store.  She bumped into two people that were traveling on another tour director's tour (with the same itinerary, thus were cut from the same cloth).  She ranted over the five dollar chips and the $16.95 buffet.  They sympathized.  Then, they all discussed (loudly) how cruel we tour directors were to force them to buy all of these expensive meals.  If we were worth our salt, we would have taken them to McDonald's.

I so wanted to jump in and ask them when the last time they saw a McDonald's was.  Because, let me tell you, they aren't near downtown.  The closest McDonald's is a $12 cab ride from where we were.  Furthermore, they would be dismayed to learn that McDonald's costs more here than it does in Tennessee.  Why?  Because we're in effing Alaska!  That's why!

Though, had I done any of that, they would have accused me of setting the prices, in much the same way that another guest accused me of personally changing the price of the Subway foot-longs to $9 instead of $5 as advertised on television.  Right.  I have that power.  It has nothing to do with the fact that the Subway is in a national park in the middle of nowhere.  It's all me.  I'm an evil genius.

But I digress...

They eventually left the lobby.  I then met the French-Canadians at a karaoke bar, and after singing it all out, I went home.  The next morning I met my group for our not-so-exciting tour de Anchorage and transfer to the ship.  When we said our final goodbyes, my tips were total crap, but my comment cards were better than expected.  Poodle-Face completely passed me by without saying toodle-loo.  

Once everyone was on their merry way to the fun ship, I walked inside the terminal, to see if my roommate had seen Poodle-Face.  She hadn't, but another tour director had.  He knew immediately who I was talking about when I called the woman, "Poodle-Face".  Apparently, she walked by him.  He asked her how she was, and she responded, "I'm not happy about a lot of things."  His response?  "Have you ever thought of smiling?"

And that was the last we heard from Scowling Poodle-Face (which is her full indian name).

The End.

Until over a month later, when I went on the Dog Sled Ride, and the woman that runs the thing told me about the angriest woman alive.  She knew Poodle-Face, and she said the only thing that made her smile was holding a puppy.  Perhaps she has a soul after all.

I'm exhausted.

Oh, and just so you can sleep at night, I did learn a couple things from this.  First, I always make it a point to tell people how expensive Alaska is when we first meet.  Second, I take nothing personally.  I just nod my head and let them yell knowing full well that I can't do anything to change their ugly demeanor--they were just born that way (or maybe it's Maybelleine).