A Case of the Crazies

Tuesday night rolled around – our last night – and we were hopeful that we’d be able to just have a pleasant evening and then get the hell out of there the next morning. Simone had never, at any point, decided to lay any ground rules for us – don’t do this, this is how you operate this, etc. Instead, we were left to wonder, and we decided, on several occasions when she left us at home alone for long stretches (once overnight – scandal!), that yes, we should turn on the TV. We had done this several times without her supervision just fine.

Well, on Tuesday night, while she was around, we made the mistake of asking her if we could turn the news on. It was six o’clock, after all. Great idea, she said! Go right ahead! Turn on Channel One. We turned the TV on successfully and then tried to change the channel to one. Nothing. After several fruitless attempts, we decided, with utter terror, to consult Simone.

Uhhh, Simone? We can’t change the channels – are we doing something wrong? She came over, tried herself, and upon discovering that she couldn’t change the channels either, exploded.

“What have you done? What the fuck have you done to my TV? You people come in here, and you mess around with things you’re not supposed to. FUCK!” This is just a sampling of the things that came out of her mouth, directed at us, for the next thirty minutes.

Bjorn didn’t take much of this, though. After about three accusations that we had somehow screwed up her TV, he said firmly, “No, we did NOT,” and walked out the door. I sat around for a few more minutes, trying to delicately explain to her that we truly had done nothing more than turn the TV on and try the channels.

“No,” she said. “You’ve messed it up. You’ve been in here watching TV when I wasn’t around and screwed it up. This is why I don’t let you people touch my gear.”

She called up a friend, and after she had launched into how “these guys have fucked up my TV,” I excused myself as well. I found Bjorn back in the caravan, steaming. He was furious and wanted to pack up the car and leave that instant. I was mad, too, but I was more afraid than anything else. I do not like confrontations, and I did not like the idea of leaving Simone’s on such a bad note. Leaving right then and there, I reasoned, was going to just make us look guilty. As is sitting out here in the caravan while she tries to fix the thing. I know it’s going to be awful, but we have to go back in there and help her get the thing fixed. (It was clearly some really simple something, given the time to mess around with it a bit.)

Bjorn, having endured a whole week’s worth of this woman’s insults and yelling during his riding, was not feeling inclined to get back in there, but after a few moments of breathing, we went for it.

Inside, Simone was still at it. On the phone, bitching about us, shining her flashlight around her TV, examining buttons.

“They’ve totally fucked it up,” she said, again. I could feel Bjorn tensing up beside me. When she got off the phone, Bjorn patiently asked her a few questions about how her TV worked.

“You don’t know anything,” she said, harshly. “Actually, I do know about technology. More than YOU,” he said back to her. “No, you don’t know about technology. Otherwise you wouldn’t have fucked this up,” she screeched. I wanted to crawl under the carpet. “This is why I don’t let you people touch my things!” she said. “I already had to put a lock on the computer because somebody fucked it up, and now the TV!” “Well,” Bjorn said, “maybe you shouldn’t have people in your house, then.”

This was the bottom line, really. If you are going to sign up to be a WWOOF host, you ought to WANT to have people in your home, make them comfortable, and share your things with them. If the TV is complicated, freaking take a minute of your time to run through how to operate it, or tell them explicitly NOT to use it. It’s that simple. If you’ve made a rule about NOT using the TV, then perhaps (and only perhaps) it’s acceptable to get a little irritated if the rule, and the TV, have been broken. In this case, of course, she had told us to go right ahead! Turn on the news! Great idea!

Finally fed up, Simone chucked the remote at Bjorn and told him he could try to work with it. And within five minutes, the problem was solved.

Upon hearing the sound restored on the TV (we had at some point lost ALL channels altogether), Simone, just like that, was a different person. “You’ve fixed it!” she shouted proudly. “Well done! Well done, team!” Uh, team? No, no, crazy lady, we are not on your team.

She was then all kinds of nice, saying, “You know, it’s just so frustrating when your stuff gets messed up, and you have to get some guy in here to fix it, and it costs you $100 or something.” Sure, we understood, we said (though we didn’t, really). Enjoy your show. Good night.

We retired to our camper van and must have sat up talking about Simone for two hours. The whole incident had been so ridiculous. We couldn’t hardly believe it had happened. Where Bjorn and I come from, in normal people land, even if you suspect someone has messed up your TV, you don’t make them feel bad about it. You certainly don’t blame it on them to their face. (Unless, maybe, it’s your best friend.) Her behavior was the ultimate in rude and impolite, in my book. Not to mention uncalled for. We had done nothing wrong.
The next morning, we got up early and packed up the car before breakfast. We had one little chore to do for Simone, but we wanted to make sure to get out of there as soon as we could. When we finally ventured into the house, Simone greeted us energetically. “Hey, you guys, I’m really sorry about getting crabby last night. It was just the end of a long day, you know, and that’s the last thing you want to have happen when your favorite show (your favorite crappy soap opera) is on.” “Oh, no worries,” we said. “We totally understand.”

She was so nice that morning, that by the time we left, we were left with a totally different feeling about her than we’d had the night before. She just had that way – when she was awful to you, you hated her, but when she was nice, you thought she was really cool. I don’t know what to really make of her. She’s got issues, to be sure. I’m just glad that I was blessed with not having someone like her for a mother (and yes, she does have children and grandchildren…can you imagine if a little grandchild had messed up her TV?).

In any event, we left, and with a couple hours on the road, we’d left her behind us. Filed her away in our NZ experiences file.