My European Vacation (with a backstory)

So I went to Germany to visit some good friends of mine, Imke and Thomas, and their kids, who went to my preschool. Originally from Germany, they lived here for six years and went back last summer.

Backstory:

We've been through a lot together. Last year, when they were making the big move back to Germany, it was decided that Imke and the kids would go first, and Thomas would follow four months later. Thomas needed a place to stay for those four months.

I arranged for him to take my place, because I was moving to a bigger place. It was perfect; he'd be in my studio, I didn't feel guilty about leaving my landlords in the lurch. He signed some papers, gave some money, and the deal was done.

I moved in June, and he was set to move to my place in August. Well, I got to my new place and hated it. Called Thomas, crying and whimpering, and told him my plight. He said no problem, he'd find another place. Thank goodness he did find another place, around the corner from me. He got his money back and contract ripped up. A little stressful situation for awhile, but we both came out of it unscathed.

Onto my European vacation. I was all set to leave on Thursday, April 13. Imke and I had emailed and talked on the phone about the date. In order to get a cheaper ticket, I had to make a four hour stopover in Canada. I would leave at 11:30 am and arrive at 6:30 am. Long day, but whatever.

On Wednesday night, as my head hit the pillow, I suddenly thought: 6:30 am? Friday? What day? Thursday? It's six hours ahead; will I arrive on Friday? They'll know what day I arrive. Will they know? They'll know. They'll know...I fell asleep.

2:30 in the morning on Thursday I got a phone call from Imke: "Where are you?" "I'm at home." "You said you were coming Thursday!" "I'm leaving Thursday." "Thomas is hopping around the Frankfurt airport, I have to call him to tell him! Same time tomorrow, bye!" Well, needless to say, I felt like a big jerk. I couldn't fall back asleep, thinking about how Thomas left his house at 4:00 in the morning to pick me up at the airport, and how he was going to have to do it again the next day. How could I have missed that important detail?? I knew Thomas must have been very pissed.

Next morning as I was getting ready to go to the airport, Thomas called, and he was laughing, thank god. As I apologized profusely, he said that he had calmed down after awhile. We know each other well enough for him to tell me that indeed he was pissed off, but he was fine now. He gave me his cell phone number, a place to meet and an alternate place to meet in case we missed each other. He had told his co-workers (not mentioning my name) and found out that at his company that happened a lot with Americans, so I wasn't the only one. I still felt like an idiot. First I find an apartment for him then take it back, then I make him come to the airport a day early. It's a good thing we're such good friends.

In any case, I arrived safely, met Thomas with a hug and a smile at our first meeting place, and began my vacation with a good story to tell. That's how my vacation started.