Trust Me- Travel is not all its made up to be

I had a travel day I would sooner forget, last week. I missed the afternoon train to Toronto, so I had to grab the 6 am the next morning for my destination to Montreal. I rose at 4 am and peering through the window into darkness, I could make out the outside thermometer to see it was going to be a "coffee on the patio" kind of day. However, time was a premiumm and I had a healthy drive and one stop to pick up my beloved Val on my way to the station.

Not to worry, I will pack the laptop and catch up on my volumes of email on the new wireless service advertised on the train from Windsor to Montreal. I hopped onto the club car with about 7 minutes to spare, was received by the hospitable and, always polite and attentive, on board crew and very shortly "clickety-clacked" down the railroad track, as some famous country singer once sang.

Anyhow, from that point on things seemed to digress. The wireless service, that I had quickly subscribed to, only worked when the consist was parked outside a station, and the connection quickly evaporated (along with any compositions I had scribed) as soon as the train wheels turned a few revolutions. My phone rang several times, as it usually does, and before long it was painfully apparent that, the meeting I was heading to was not going to be physically possible for some schedules and, like that point on a runway that a plane has no alternative but to take off, I was beyond the point of turning back.

My arrival in Montreal, soon exposed me to a startlingly difference from the "coffee on the patio" to a "hot chocolate in the mitts" (mitts, of which I had not) kind of temperature. Oh well, no worries, the commuter train boarded in the same station as the train off boarded and it was a 3 block sprint to my flat.

All things considered, I had survived relatively unscathed, and I was maison de la francais when, I looked stage left while unlocking my door and glimpsed the sign in the window saying the heated upstairs 3 bedroom was "for rent".

OY, my cosmoplolitan, continental, modest second abode was being solicited like a common unheralded boarding house. AYE, "wassup wid dat?" ran through my mind. "Am I barging in as persona non grata?" was my second sprint. Upon confirming that all was as I left things, I heralded my landlord and asked the obvious. He was looking to rent to a long-term tenant rather than have a boarder (let me be the first to say his generosity and his family's kindness is unmatched) for the revenue. Much like business models that I study, and, curse the faceless, souless principles of entrepeneurship, it reminded me of the models of "full utilization of the assets". Merde!! Business admin 101 had hit home and my accomodation was being rationalized. Oh well, C'est la vie.