Faux Rebecca

As a responsible timeshare owner, I attended the annual Wyndham owner via Zoom. One of us needs to stay abreast of this shit, and there is no way my brother will participate.

They do a decent job. I can't imagine being there in person other than to get in on the gift giveaways, and I learned one or two new things, but I did wonder how many people showed up in person. I can't imagine sitting in an audience while this plays out, but people were there. I heard them.

Fast forward two days later. I went to Bonnet Creek for the weekend. Darcy's roommate, Sofie, had a basketball tourney in Orlando, so I tagged along to give her a place to stay. On Friday night, I took her to the owner's lounge to watch the Disney fireworks. It's a perk I do enjoy. It's a large room with plenty of indoor seating, a pool table, and a super cool drink machine that makes everything from espresso shots to lattes, cappuccinos, and hot chocolates. It's on the umpteenth floor and has a balcony with seating to view the laser show at Hollywood Studios and the fireworks from Magic Kingdom and Epcot. 

There were a few people there, and when it finished, most of them left. Sofie and I were left standing on the balcony with a kid about nine or ten years old, drinking some hot beverage from the super cool maker. He piped up as I questioned the location of the Disney properties, giving me detailed geographic locations. Then, he proceeded to chat with us. Somewhere in our conversation, he flashed this large placard he had hanging around his neck, telling us that he had gone to the owner's meeting. I asked if his name was Rebecca, seeing as that was on the placard.

 Him: "That's my mom. I went with her and my grandfather."

I questioned him. How many people were there? Do they sit in rows of chairs like an audience? Or around a table? Do they give away tons of prizes? I know there was a spinning wheel, but did they give away other stuff? Does his mom always go?

He answered all of them: About thirty. They sit in chairs like an audience. They gave away free stuff like that lanyard. His mom won a free weekend at a resort. His grandfather likes to go to the meetings.

Then he told us he'd had too much coffee, indicating the cup in his hand. I suggested he maybe switch to water, and I asked him his name. He turned quiet--as in do-not-tell-strangers-your-name quiet. I nodded, called him Rebecca, thanked him for his information, and told him we were going inside to play pool."

Faux Rebecca: "I'm going inside too. I like pool."

Sofie and I glanced around for some adults, but there was nada. The kid appeared to be in the Presidential Lounge by himself. The three of us went inside, but a family was already at the pool table. Faux Rebecca didn't care. He marched up to the father and the kids and basically told them their turn was over. Sofie and I winced. The mother laughed, said they were finished, and off they went.

Faux Rebecca: "I need to get more coffee."

Off he trekked to the machine. Sofie told me she was concerned about his coffee intake. I assured her the kid wasn't really consuming much. It was more about the making process. 

We racked up the balls. I started a spiel about not knowing how to play, giving Sofie my best hustler imitation. I needn't have bothered. Faux Rebecca returned, sat down his coffee, got a stick, and took over. He made up the game as he went along, chatting the entire time.

Faux Rebecca: "I think I've had way too much coffee. I'm getting a little jittery. That's why I'm missing so many shots. I think I've had five or six cups."

At some point, another kid joined us. He was even younger, and his head barely came above the table. He was there with his older brother, who ignored all of us. The conversation was hilarious while we played what did not resemble the game of pool whatsoever.

Me: "What's your name?"

Simon: "Simon."

Me: "I'm Cara, that's Sofie, and this is Rebecca."

Faux Rebecca: "Yeah."

Simon: "I'm from Texas."

Me: "Sofie and I live in Florida."

Faux Rebecca: "I live in a state that begins with an I."

Me: "Iowa?"

Faux Rebecca: "No."

Me: "Idaho?"

Faux Rebecca: "No, it begins with a C."

Me: "You said an I."

Faux Rebecca: "I meant a C."

Me: Colorado?"

Faux Rebecca: "No."

Me: "North Carolina? South Carolina?"

Faux Rebecca: "That isn't a C."

Me: "Carolina begins with a C."

Faux Rebecca: "It's Columbia, don't you know."

Me: "That's a country, not a state."

Faux Rebecca: "My grandfather is from there."

We played several games with the conversation all over the place until Sofie and I had had enough. We bid them both goodnight and left. All the way to our room, Sofie went and on about how Faux Rebecca's parents just let him wander that lounge alone. I reminded her that he'd done a good job of not telling us his name. She didn't think that counted as good parenting. 

After returning to our room, I realized I'd left my water glass upstairs. Sofie went back with me to collect it. I think she worried someone would kidnap me in the elevator.

As we walked down the hall toward the door, it opened. Out came Faux Rebecca with his grandfather. The kid totally acted like he'd never seen us before in his life. He looked everywhere but at us--up at the ceiling, to the right, at the floor. His grandfather bid us a good evening. I answered, and then couldn't resist adding a little something.

Me: "Night Rebecca. Thanks for teaching us pool."

The kid left his eyes toward the ceiling and walked right past us. Sofie and I barely held in our laughter. 

As they turned the corner, the grandfather asked Faux Rebecca if he knew those people, and as calm as can be in his adult no-nonsense tone, the kid flat-out lied.

Faux Rebecca: "No, I don't know them."

I am so going to next year's owner's meeting in person.