Last week I recapped what a typical work day looked like for me on Mackinac Island, although I’m sure you noticed how few details about my actual job I included. This summer was my first time working a seasonal hospitality job with on-site living, so there were just too many other random quirks and experiences that I found funny/entertaining.
I wasn’t able to fit everything I wanted in one blog, so tonight’s post is a hodgepodge of leftovers that I wanted to write about. Last week’s post provides some helpful context for these stories, so I recommend reading it first.
Malice at the Palace – Part 2 (almost) – NBA fans will never forget the fight between the Pistons and Pacers (and fans) at the Auburn Hills Palace in 2004. It’s the coolest, scariest, most disgraceful, most incredible, most embarrassing sports brawl of my lifetime. Fists everywhere. Drinks dumped left and right. NBA players fighting fans in the stands. The Malice at the Palace was pure insanity.
I assumed I wouldn’t ever witness anything like that in person, and for many years I thought my assumption was safe. After all, I’ve been going to Packer games every year since grade school, and the worst thing I ever saw at Lambeau was one belligerent Packer fan deservedly getting dropkicked by some Vikings faithful. It was definitely a violent kick, but the fight ended just as soon as it started, and nobody got seriously hurt.
It wasn’t until I moved into room 102 that I started to genuinely worry about witnessing a brawl. I could feel the malice in the air. The buzz was palpable.
One of my roommates was very nice and well liked among employees, but he worked early morning shifts every day, so he woke up much earlier than the rest of us prisoners in room 102.
That was particularly problematic because one of the other roommates talked on the phone late into the night, snored impossibly loud, and played his radio at all hours of the day. The moron even left his radio on when he left the room for the day.
That frustrated all of us, but it really got under a certain someone’s skin. That certain someone quickly developed a habit of walking into Mr. Obnoxious’ cubicle to turn off the radio himself.
I didn’t see any issues with it, but apparently Mr. Obnoxious was also Mr. Second Grader. At one point Mr. Second Grader tattled to security, and security had a little chat with the other roommate about boundaries.
All was quiet for a while after that, but it was only temporary. One night at about midnight, Mr. Obnoxious decided to play his music even louder than usual. That was the snapping point for Mr. Nice Guy. He blew a gasket, and in my opinion, rightfully so.
I woke up when Mr. Usually Nice Guy started screaming at Mr. Obnoxious to turn his radio off. It was especially startling for me, because I was in that head space when you wake up from a deep sleep and you’re lost and confused because only like 30% of your brain is actually working.
I never said more than a few words to Mr. Obnoxious before, but based on the little info I knew about him, he didn’t seem like someone that would sit idly by while someone screams at him.
The sense of sight seems important when breaking up a fight, so luckily my brain managed to muster up enough motors skills to scramble, find my glasses, and place them on my face. I was prepared to jump out of bed if necessary, but I obviously preferred to stay out of it.
Mr. Obnoxious responded with a “what are you going to do?”
Mr. Usually Nice Guy came back with a “I’M NOT PLAYING AROUND ANYMORE. I’LL COME IN THERE AND BEAT YOUR *BUTT* IF I HAVE TO!”
Oh God. I was actually going to have to do something.
Mr. Obnoxious responded with the most insulting thing of all time. No words. He just laughed. Laughed right in Mr. Usually Nice Guy’s face.
Oh my. Malice at the Palace round 2. Here it comes. Oh no. It’s happening.
Mr. Usually Nice Guy screamed some more. “I’LL PUNCH YOU STRAIGHT IN THE THROAT!”
Oh God. Now we’re calling out specific parts of the body we’re going to punch. Oh no no no no. Not good. Very bad.
We were at a crossroads, and it was playing out just like a standoff scene in a Clint Eastwood movie. Just imagine it:
The camera pans from Mr. Usually Nice Guy to Mr. Obnoxious Guy. Then it pans back to Mr. Usually Nice Guy.
Now the camera is in slow motion. It zooms in on Mr. Usually Nice Guy’s face. Veins are popping all over the place, and he has the look of murder in his eyes. The camera stays on him for a few seconds, he blinks, and the fury takes over his eyes even more.
The camera slowly tilts down from his face and towards his right hand. His fingers slowly roll up into a tight fist. The camera zooms in even more.
His hand starts to cock back ever so slowly. There’s a strange, almost deafening silence. The only thing you hear is the second hand of the clock ticking ever so slowly.
Click. Click. Click.
It feels like minutes have passed, but it’s only been a few seconds.
Finally, his arm is now cocked all the way back. It’s spring loaded and ready to unleash a never before seen amount of force directly on Mr. Obnoxious’ trachea. His Adam’s apple is cruisin’ for a bruisin’.
The camera tilts back to Mr. Usually Nice Guy’s face. Massive beads of sweat drop ever so slowly to the ground. It’s so silent that you can hear the tears hitting the ground.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The camera pans slightly to the right. For the first time you can see the other two roommates that were previously unaccounted for.
They’re squaring up at each other like a couple heavyweights ready for a championship bout. They’ve clearly picked sides, so now I’m the only one in the middle. I’m responsible for breaking up not one, but two fights.
The camera finally focuses its attention on me. I’m dazed and confused. My hair is as long as it’s been in a long time, so I look like a homeless man strung out on some hard drugs.
This is a complete disaster waiting to happen. There’s no going back once the first punch gets thrown. Life will never be the same.
And then……..
Nothing happens.
Mr. Usually Nice Guy storms out of the room and marches to the security office. Security sets him up in another room for the night, and the following day he officially moves from room 102 to some other room with just as much testosterone, but much less vitriol.
Disaster averted. Whew. Massive sigh of relief.
I have to be honest – I never intended on writing so much about that night. I was only planning on writing four or five paragraphs, but somewhere along the way my PTSD took control of my fingers.
Things obviously weren’t quite that dramatic. The entire situation lasted about 20 or 30 seconds. There was a lot of shouting – my quotes were word for word – but I don’t believe any fists were cocked. Neither of the other two roommates brought themselves into the situation.
I certainly wasn’t going to catch a stray fist trying to break up a fight. Things would have had to get really terrible for me to get in the mix, and I trusted that Mr. Nice Guy would have taken it easy and still won.
Anyways, let’s get on with the rest of my stories/observations. I promise they’ll be much, much shorter.
Roommate Turnover – There was much more roommate turnover during the season. Myself, Mr. Obnoxious, and one other guy were the only three that lived in room 102 all summer.
Mr. Nice Guy was the first to go when he moved rooms.
There was one other guy living there when I moved in, but I never talked to him or saw him. I have no idea what his job was. All I know is that one day he suddenly vanished, and I don’t know why.
It was the three of us for a while, but then we had a clinically insane guy move in. I can’t write about him on here, because even though there’s only a 0.0001% chance he’ll ever see it, it’s still too dangerous. I was legitimately concerned for my safety with him around. Luckily he quit/got fired after a couple days. It was all very confusing. That’s an in-person story only.
After the crazy dude there was a random guy that moved in and proceeded to quit within one or two days. Nothing special about him, which is a very good thing in the Mackinac Island world.
Then there was a hardcore gamer dude. He had a projector screen shooting up at the wall, which he used to play video games for about 8-10 hours every day. He also randomly disappeared after about 10 or so days.
Then the last roommate for the year arrived. He was kind enough to wake me up one night when I somehow slept through a fire alarm, so that was kind of him. Then he got fired. Not sure what the deal was.
Alcohol is really expensive on the island – Buying beer on the island really sucked. The only grocery store on the island sold 12-packs of Busch Light for over $14. I don’t mind paying a premium price for a premium beer like Busch Light, but I’m so conditioned to 30-packs at Kwik Trip for essentially the same price. Luckily I didn’t go out often, so it didn’t burn me too badly.
Biking home after a night of drinking – Those that know me well know I love exercising after a night of drinking. I’ve matured very much, so it doesn’t happen anymore, but back home a night out at 4th and 5 or Official’s Den oftentimes led to a walk back home on the railroad tracks. I’m not saying it’s the smartest thing in the world, but I can guarantee it’s one of the most fun things in the world.
At least that’s what I thought until I discovered the art of biking back home on Mackinac Island’s dimly lit roads at 1 am. It’s both peaceful and an adventure at the same time, and I’d take it over a railroad walk any night, which is really saying something.
Missing the St. Mary’s Spaghetti Supper – Mackinac Island wasn’t all unicorns and rainbows. Missing St. Mary’s annual spaghetti supper for the first time in a long time, if ever, was demoralizing and heartbreaking. It’s one of my favorite days of the year, and words truly can’t describe how much it hurt to miss it this year.
The pasta – one part noodle and one part butter – can’t be beat. The meat sauce is always so thick and meaty, which sounds simple, but nobody perfects it the way the St. Mary’s volunteers do. And then the applesauce. Oh lord almighty the applesauce. What can I even say about the applesauce? It’s the best singular food on this planet.
Time Warp – Have you ever seen the movie Interstellar? Do you remember how gravity apparently changed the speed of time on some of those faraway planets, so that one hour on the planets was equal to many years in the spaceship? Matthew McConaughey spends a few hours on the planet, and then he returns to the spaceship to find that Romilly aged 23 years.
I can’t prove it, but I know for a fact that Mackinac Island has a similar time warp. The days flew by faster than they ever have, but somehow it felt like my 3.5 months on the island lasted about two years. By my calculation, each day on the island lasts four hours and each month lasts 94 days.