Monday, May 09, 2005
Ladies and Gentlemen, We Have a New Plankiest!
Okay, so this weekend, the hotel that A and I stayed at will no longer be called anything except "The Plankiest." How did it achieve such a high honor? I will be happy to spill.
We checked in on Thursday. The check in process was mostly painless. We get our room keys and travel up to our room. I put the key in the lock, and the little green light flashes to let me know that I have been granted access to the room. So far so good. Only problem is, I can only open the door about an inch. Why? Well, they had this security bolt on the inside of the door, and it was activated. It was the kind that had a silver tongue on the door, and it fit into this track that was on the doorframe. So we called downstairs, and they sent up an engineer to fix it.
The engineer only took about 2 minutes to get there, but then when he found out what the problem was, he was mystified. He actually looked at us accusingly, like we enjoy locking ourselves out of our rooms just so he can come up and fix it. Sorry for wasting your time buddy. We will try to be smarter next time and predict whether the bolt is on the door or not.
We finally get into the room, and A goes to use the bathroom. When she lifted up the toilet seat cover, she discovered some kind of brown liquid on the toilet seat. Can anybody say "ewwww?" Sick.
So then she tries to use the phone to call someone to come clean our toilet. One small problem however, the phone doesn't work. Well that's okay, we'll use the other phone. Uh, wrong answer! The other phone doesn't work either. So we are mad. Mad, I tell you.
We go back out to the hall, call the front desk again, demand a different room, and ask them what in the world we are paying all of this money for. (Okay dad, I can hear you now. "Whose money?" Yes, that's right, yours.) But anyway.
Then, yesterday, we checked out of the hotel. So far so good. I handed the valet guy our slip, and he went and got our car. Then he loaded all of our luggage in the trunk. I tipped him, and went over to the driver's side to open the door. One small problem, it was locked. When I informed the valet guy that the door was locked, he asked me if I was kidding. It was about 8:20a.m. Let me tell you kiddies, at 8:20a.m. I do not have a sense of humor. So I informed him that I was indeed not kidding, and to fix this problem.
A and I start having panic attacks, because we do not want to miss our flight. Sort of justifiable, right? About an hour later, the locksmith shows up to unlock the car. Then we speed out of there like there is no tomorrow. But between the time that the valet guy locked the keys in the car and the locksmith freeing the keys to the car, the staff at the front desk were surprisingly unsympathetic. Grrrr.
So the moral of the story: Don't stay at "The Plankiest."
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