Night Geckos

In a recent post I mentioned how I tend to be the one who freaks out and worries about things, and Nick is the one who talks me down and – in the rare instance where there is actually something to be worried about – he helps me get to the point where I can find a solution.  On our honeymoon, however, I found out it doesn’t always work that way.

First of all, I should mention that we had an absolutely awesome week in Mexico.  We enjoyed eight days and seven nights of beautiful weather, margaritas and ceviche served to us on the beach, and just being with each other.  But one of the things that I loved most about it was that it really wasn’t that different than how we are at home, we just had this gorgeous backdrop to do our normal thing.  This meant that there were still times when both of us were feeling a little under the weather, and just hung out in our room and watched weird Mexican cell phone commercials in between music videos on VH1.  And there were still times that we argued a bit.

Which brings me to the story of the night geckos*.  On our second night, Nick and I went to the Pan-Asian restaurant and enjoyed some really yummy sushi.  I also had several glasses of wine.  I’m not sure exactly how much I had because at an all-inclusive resort they refill your wine glass like it’s water.  After dinner we decided to go back to the room for awhile before going back down to the bar; after all, we had a free bottle of sparkling wine in the mini fridge.  Neither of us particularly like sparkling wine, but if it’s given to us, we’ll drink it.  So, we took the bottle and a couple glasses out to the balcony, and we shortly discovered that we had company.

On the wall and ceiling were a couple little geckos (I know he looks kinda big in the picture, but he was probably no more than 4 inches long).  Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I get excited about pretty much any animal encounter.  (I made Nick walk around the perimeter of the hotel with me on an unsuccessful mission to try to find some coatis).  Anyway, I was happy to take some pictures of the geckos and watch them hunt bugs.

So we were hanging out on the balcony, drinking sparkling wine and watching the geckos.  Despite my insistence that we would not use our cell phones in Mexico unless there was an emergency, I suddenly decided I needed to text my sister to tell her about the geckos, as she likes animals as much as I do, and actually has a pet gecko**.

I should mention at this point that I almost titled this, “Why I Should Not Be Allowed on Balconies After Drinking.”

I went back into the hotel room to retrieve my cell phone, closing the door behind me, at which point Nick started yelling at me because the sliding door locks automatically and I consequently left him stranded on the balcony.

I opened the door and he started lecturing me on how I can’t close the door all the way.

“I know that.  I was just going to get my phone.  I’ll be right back.”

So, I went and found my phone, came back onto the balcony, and closed the door behind me.

Yep, now we were both out on the balcony on the wrong side of a locked door.  Did I mention our room was on the 5th floor?

I come from a smart family.  But with this intelligence comes a propensity to do really dumb shit at really inconvenient times, particularly during vacations.  At age 3, my first day of my first trip to Disney World was delayed when my grandfather locked the keys in the rental car in the parking lot of the Magic Kingdom.  I also have a recollection of sitting outside our Ocean City condo late at night because my dad lost the keys somewhere on the boardwalk and had to go to the realtor to get another set.

Thus, I blame genetics.  And the waiter who kept refilling my wine glass at dinner.

Nick immediately started doing this heavy breathing thing he does when he’s getting really angry and/or freaking out.  Pulling frantically at the door didn’t really seem to help anything.  Somehow, I stayed very calm (for which I thank the waiter who kept refilling my wine glass at dinner).

“It’s fine.  I have my cell phone.”

“Do you have the hotel’s number?”

“No.”

I contemplated climbing over the half wall to our neighbor’s balcony and pounding on their door.  But through the sheer curtains I could see their television pretty well, and based on what they were watching I’m guessing they did not want to be disturbed.

What I did do was call my parents and ask them to look at the email I sent them with the hotel contact information and text the phone number to me.  During and in between my conversations with them and with the hotel concierge, there was a lot of pacing and “I can’t believe you did that” coming from Nick.  The concierge was nice enough to let himself into our hotel room and let us in from the balcony.  It’s hard to tell if he was amused or annoyed.  But as I told Nick, there’s no way we are the first people get stuck on the balcony.  And we resolved it without having to scale the building or throw a chair through the door.

Once we were inside, Nick recovered quickly and forgave me.  At least we have a good honeymoon story.  And we knew we didn’t have to worry about anyone breaking into our room from the balcony.

*I think they are really a type of house gecko, but they were on our balcony at night, so I like “night geckos.”

**Emily’s gecko is a desert gecko, not a night gecko, according to my taxonomy.

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