The downward spiral of my affection for the town called Homer.

This is a story of adventure.  This is a tale that will frighten you, appal you, and leave you teary-eyed from laughter.  Let us begin...

It was a day, like any other.  Jordan and I had got off work early on a Friday to drive down to this town called Homer, for a friends wedding.  We had a wonderful drive together.  Lots of laughter and fun.  We made really good time too.  Driving that highway again was a treat in a way, the scenery is breathtaking.

As we arrived into this town called Homer, we headed for our reserved B&B.  Now I had been the one to procure our lodgings and have learned a valuable lesson throughout this incident.  Never again will I reserve lodging off of Craigslist w/o thorough research. 

We drove up to a run down house.  Paint pealing and dogs barking.  Red flag #1

I stayed positive saying, "Maybe it's better inside.  How bad could it be?"  OOohhhh those words, so pregnant with forshadowing. 

As we were calling the owner to see about getting into our room her basement tenant came out and offered to let us in.  He went back into the basement and momentarily opened the upstairs door.  Red flag #2  We thought it odd and a bit disconcerting that our host was absent and her downstairs tenant had free access to the home.

As we entered the home, we noticed a few details that quickly dashed my hopes.  A overwhelming smell of animal pee and poo. Red flag #3

Multiple bird cages, with no birds in them.  Red flag #4

The sound of birds perched near the ceiling and feathers flapping freely throughout the living room. Red flag #5

Forever thankful, we did not remove our shoes.  A look around the living room revealed a home unkempt and full of animal hair and such.

Again my mind said - maybe the room is better. *shakes head* oh poor naive little Rachel.

The basement tenant led us to our room.  As I entered, I realized something quickly.  There were too many red flags.  Ooohh but there was more. 

There on the floor welcoming us to our room was a pile of doggie poo. RED FLAG # 6

I turned to Jordan, jaw dropped and eyes bugged out and whispered, "I CANNOT sleep here!"

Jordan gave an exasperated chuckle and replied very matter of fact, "No you can't, there's a puddle of pee on the bed."

I turned and witnessed the last red flag.  A fresh and bright puddle of pee upon the pillows.

Jordan announced, "We are leaving.  Lets go."

We proceeded to tip toe out of the house with great haste.  Walked as fast as we thought prudent to our car and Jordan tore out of the driveway and away.  Our shock and horror was immense and we couldn't stop laughing.

Now, I know I cannot blame this town called Homer for our experience, and I do not judge it soley on this either. 

It has wonderful resturants, like Duncans, or the Fat olive, and the winery, and beatuiful bishops beach, and amazing views of katchamak bay.  But without going into details, I can say that my affection for this town called Homer is diminished.  Though friends who live there will always be important, this town called Homer has lost its draw.