Q., my new partner in airline adventures, asked if we could use it at the hotel. "Maybe" was the answer. We were tired and wanted to put down the carry on bags we'd been clasping for the past two hours (it's a little known fact that the longer luggage is carried, the heavier it actually becomes. Really. My once quite light bags were now about the weight of two loads of soggy laundry. Wet towels, maybe blankets. With an overweight cocker spaniel hidden inside. I swear!)
We decided to take our chances at the Sheraton.
We were told to go downstairs and look for the call area and call the Sheraton shuttle. Another trek across the airport, and no call area. But we did find a hotel reservation desk.
"We don't handle that." So the desk marked "Hotel reservation Desk" does NOT handle hotel reservations. I began looking around for John Clease or someone else from the Monty Python troupe. This was approaching the Ministry of Silly Walks in strangeness , for sure.
A man at another desk (one with no sign, so I guess he could handle a hotel reservation question) offered to call for us. "Which Sheraton? We had no idea...our pink papers said simply "Sheraton." He told us where to wait outside for the van. 10 minutes passed. 20 minutes. Finally a van marked Sheraton. We got on and rode over to the hotel. Went into the lobby, and up to the desk. The bags had at least doubled in weight since we boarded the shuttle.
"Wrong Sheraton", the woman told us.
Did you ever see the movie "The Out of Towners"? I was starting to feel very much like I was in an unintentional remake. My carry on was getting heavier by the second. By now it felt like bowling balls packed in bricks.
She called the van to wait and we re-boarded. The driver was very nice as he drove us to the other Sheraton. We checked in no problem. The vouchers would be honored, although nothing on their menu was under $10.00. We each left credit cards on file to cover the balances, and went up to our respective rooms, lugging bags that now clearly exceeded the weight limit for the elevator. Each.
30 minutes later we headed for the dining room. You have to love hotel dining room prices. A veggie burger was $15.00. A Cobb salad was $17.00. Poor captive travelers! But the food was very good...thank you Sheraton! We talked and ate, and made plans to meet at 5 a.m. to return to the airport for our 7 am flight.
The morning went smoothly. Van ride, airport security, a nice flight. The carry on bags had returned to their starting weight. I was feeling really good. We went to brunch in Miami Beach, near Q's home. A perfect return home. All is well, I thought.
Then I went back to my car. My cute Suzuki...or rather my ONCE cute Suzuki, because now the drivers side door and back door were smashed in! A kind passer by told me a recycling truck had hit my car...twice! Then left!
The next hour was spent completing a police report, gathering info from the witness and looking at my mushed car doors. And wondering if the universe was telling me to go back to PA.
3 comments:
This is really something--beyond Python-esque, even! I hope things get better...
Oh bother!!! At least you found a decent dinner and made it home. Sorry to hear about the car. :(
-Doreen in PA
OMG!!!!
Fun story to read -- loved the way you told it -- sorry 'bout the welcome home present!
Namaste,
Mathew
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