Right before I left Christchurch, I made a bad mistake. I had been trying to leave Celtic Backpackers quietly and considerately, since the shuttle was picking me up at 6 a.m. So I slipped quietly and considerately out the door, closed it, locked it -- and realized that I had left my walking stick inside. I panicked, and banged frantically on the door, inadvertently terrifying Kym, the hostel's owner, who thought that someone was being mugged outside her house. To her credit, she did open the door, and my stick was restored to me. I feel terrible about it, though. I had really liked her and her hostel, and I had so wanted to leave a good impression. Now I'm afraid I am doomed to be remembered forever as That Stupid American Who Scared Us to
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