Night One of the Blog

Night One of My Hotel Blog.

I arrived around 3 PM today. Room was ready, everything was copacetic. A typical mid-range hotel room. Large bed, cheap flat panel television, push button lamps. But let's talk about where that typical room stops. I'm used to a small, plain table for a desk with a lamp that has two outlets for electronic devices. No such luck here. The only outlets in the room are monopolized by a lamp and an alarm clock on the bed side and the refrigerator and another lamp on the work desk side. So already, I'm being asked to make sacrifices. Do I unplug the alarm clock to plug in the CPAP? Of course I do. Because, as I stated in my previous entry, hotel alarm clocks are not to be trusted and are better off without power. So now the CPAP has an outlet to call home. Now I must tackle the the work desk side. I refuse to unplug the refrigerator, because, let's be real here, no one likes room temperature soda except my wife. My personal laptop will provide all the light I need at the desk. Problem solved.

This is where things get tricky. I still have a work laptop and both cell phones to worry about. My Chromebook doesn't have enough USB ports to charge everything. But never mind all of that, because by the time I start worrying about it, I have a man attempting to enter my room with a key card.

This is not the first time during my jaunts in hotels that someone has attempted to use their key card in the wrong room, and due to my experience, I am not alarmed. However, when the man using the key card gains entry into my room, I become alarmed nonetheless.

Chris works for Total Petroleum Services. He has been on the road all day and was given this errant key card by Mary, a delightful woman who works the desk at this mid-range hotel. She is a short woman, rather portly, and has comically short arms. She reminds me of a lazy Tyrannosaurus Rex with dwarfism and an unfortunate bloating issue.

When Chris enters my room to both of our embarrassments, I tell him, "Hey man, no big deal, let's go down to the desk and sort this out." Chris and I take the poorly maintained elevator to the lobby and approach Mary. Mary, being as sweet and wonderful as she is, apologizes to both of profusely and does her damnedest to sort out the confusion. She determines that Chris was given my room in error (NO SHIT) and gives him the proper room, 201. We all have a good laugh about it and go on our merry way. But that is not where this tale ends, my friends. Because Mary, as sweet and kind as she may be, is not the sharpest pencil in the box. Mary has reprogrammed not only Chris' card, but also mine, to be admitted into room 201. I have taken up residence in room 206 since I fucking got here hours ago.

I return to my room and see the dreaded red light when I scan my key card. Thankfully, I have patience approaching infinite and kindness unmatched by Mother Teresa. I return to the lobby, inform Mary of her mistake, get my key card reprogrammed, and take the poorly maintained elevator back to my room, where I get to share my woes with you wonderful people.

Also, this hotel doesn't have laundry service, so I have to wear a dirty shirt tomorrow.