I was upset at first, but now it’s kinda funny.
Saturday night, my first show went wonderfully. I was well-received, well-treated, and well-paid. I returned to my stone home-away-from home feeling lucky, successful, and happily tired.
The only problem was, Saturday’s show was to be my only show. While I was romanced into coming to Montenegro by a DJ acquaintance of mine for two weeks of ongoing shows, the casino where I performed was under the impression that they were booking me for a one night event. As the DJ is Turkish, the casino manager is Montenegrin, their shared language is English, and the DJ’s English speaking skills are rubbish, I am chalking this entire comedic episode up to a miscommunication. Here’s where the situation gets inconvenient: The casino provided me with lovely accommodations in Montenegro for the days up to and including the night of my show, which took place July 7th. My return flight to Istanbul isn’t until July 19th!
So. . . I’m officially on a completely unplanned and unexpected vacation in Montenegro. In order to economize on lodging, I took a room in the best hostel in Kotor–Old Town Hostel. Incredible, caring staff, beautiful facility, comfortable rooms. However, it is definitely a hostel. Optional daily excursions to the beach, rafting, canoeing, cave exploring, or the national park, 20-year-olds drinking wine from the bottle at the nightly party in the community lounge, a fellow’s hairstyle that includes a silken ponytail complemented by a single, waist-length dreadlock, the obligatory guy with the guitar playing and singing an off-key rendition of “Stand By Me”, a shared bathroom and kitchen, bunk beds, and five roommates. Four of my roommates are Czechoslovakian (two guys and a girl, thankfully none of them snores), and one is a Serbian girl who tends to walk around in her pajamas. . . which are lace panties and a tank top.
I’m not that mad anymore.