Alright, gather around. So way way back in the 1700âČs, my respectable relative decided that they wanted to go traveling. Their crops had come in on time, they werenât dying of tuberculosis, and, for once, the English werenât trying to kill them. So, naturally, they ventured South to a small village in the Hebrides for a nice âtropicalâ vacation. Upon reaching said village, they came across an inn.Â
Now, the Scottish, being the wild party animals that they are, were having a dance that night. This dance must have looked like a lot of fun, because my relative in question decided to pay a modest fee of what would be 5 dollars in todayâs world to get in. Everything was going great, until 10 minutes later, the inn decided to close for the night. My dude was NOT having it. They demanded a refund, but the innkeeper said no.Â
Shenanigans promptly ensued. They wanted their 5 dollars, and by God, THEY WOULD GET IT. Unfortunately, there was a no refund policy. I donât know what was worse, the fact that they were robbed of 5 bucks, or that they were thrown so violently off their groove. I will never know what really happened next that night that was so bad, so awful, so absolutely mortifying that it warranted exile, but one canât help but imagine. Was it murder? Heresy? A combination of both?
In the end, the townspeople chased them off, banished them, and cursed their very name. If they, or any of their children, or their childrenâs childrenâs children decided to step foot back on that island, there would be goddamn hell to pay.Â
If I could choose to travel back in time to any one place, it would be this very same event. I mean, I have questions. Did my ancestor kick ass and take names, or did they get their ass kicked? What else would they do for 5 dollars? Was wreaking havoc on a small town and forever shaming the family name worth it? Was it honestly worth the 5 fricking dollars?
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