Our accommodations on Key West were in the Key Breeze, what is sometimes called a “boutique hotel,” small but pretty upscale. Our group filled the whole place. A snafu occurred as we were checking in that changed the whole tenor of the tour, at least, and perhaps of my life.
I was, as usual, toward the rear of the check-in line. I was looking around the well-decorated and furnished lobby, admiring the motif that was tropical but elegant. My attention was drawn to raised voices, or more specifically, a raised voice. With an unmistakable accent. Graham was at the desk, and he was obviously unhappy about something. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but the Brit was clearly pissed. Jim, our tour host, was in conference with Graham and the desk clerk. Then they all looked back at me. J
