Saturday, May 10, 2014

A Wicked Trip Nahth…Part II

After navigating through the triage zone at the pharmacy I went back to my hotel and booked another hotel room in the city at half the cost that my room would be the next night where I was currently staying. I did this because I am paranoid…not because I intended to switch hotels. No, I intended to use my negotiation skills that I use for work to get this hotel to change my rate so I could stay there. But I also wondered if I encountered a “By the rules” kind of desk agent if he or she would be able to zap me out of other hotels in the city thereby rendering me “hotel less” should we not reach agreement or as Kate Gosselin* once said “Agreeance”.

Bolstered by my “forward thinking” I strolled down toward the front desk and to my happy surprise the Taylor Swift fan Club President was at the desk. I said hello. She didn’t recognize me. I explained that I was the guy from Taylor Swift’s hometown and she brightened right up. A reduced room rate was all but certain. I explained my “situation” that is, that my rate was going to nearly double the next night. She frowned and began typing on her keyboard. She then smiled and acknowledged I was right but explained that I was getting “A great deal” because of my corporate rate. The rate would be even higher had I not had that. I then explained that I understood but also told her I could go to another hotel…one in her chain a few blocks away for less than half of what I would be paying the next night. She frowned some more and then, with hand on bended hip said “I highly doubt that sir, the city is sold out this week”. Slightly taken aback by the inference that I had lied, I explained that I was indeed right as I had already booked another room at just the rate I had told her. “Prez” was now steaming…she began to type furiously switching screens again and again (I was sure this is where she was sending out an APB to all hotels in the city to shut me out but I had beaten her to the punch!). She looked up finally, faked a smile and said, “I wouldn't know anything about that”…and disingenuously wished me a good day. I had won…and lost. Either way I was sure Taylor Swift or I had lost a “fan”. I think Taylor Swift is safe…

The next day was another Apollo 13 ride nahth this time with some heavy rain. The meeting participants remained highly contagious and I remained relegated by choice to a cahnah of the room with my miracle cure ever ready. The ride home was better than the day before but now I had to go into the city…with my fairly giant “car”. I don’t mind city driving but I do mind it when I don’t know where I am going. I didn't know where I was going. The “Navi” works well but directions can be a tad late which causes last second lane changes or left hand turns from the right turn lane all of which when added up with an out of town plate draws the ire of the “locals”. I drew a lot of ire. I made a guess when the “Navi” got confused when the satellite signal started bouncing off buildings and luckily made it to my hotel. I also remember thinking that this part of town is “Really Busy…and congested…almost chaotic”. I checked in to a giant high-rise attached to a giant city mall and felt slightly out of sorts. I can’t fully explain it except it was like starting a new trip even though I was in the middle of an existing one. I think mentally I thought I had four nights ahead of me instead of two.

After getting my keys I approached the elevators along with a crowd of waiting people. An elevator arrived and the masses stampeded towards the open door…barely letting people out; which by the way is a huge pet peeve of mine. I call it “The Elevator Rule” but it also applies to subways/airport trains and/or rental car buses. It is simply this. Let the arriving transport mode empty before getting in. I can’t tell you how many times I have been on an airport train and had difficulty leaving the train because people want to get on…makes no sense. Let me off and then there is more room for you. So I watched the crush towards the door and just backed off. I let these selfish you know whats jam in the elevator playing a bad game of twister with those trying to leave. My last image of them was of a group of people crammed in the elevator half of them looking like they had just snagged a seat on the last chopper out of Saigon in 1975.

I shook my head. And then I waited. And waited. And waited some more. No joke…twenty minutes. By now there was a crowd and I overheard a man saying he had waited thirty minutes for an elevator that morning. As I waited still longer I started to second guess my decision. Just about the time I was ready to Google the lyrics to a Taylor Swift song thinking I might need them to get readmitted at my former hotel, the elevator door opened. The crush started again…with me in the middle. I rushed forward as well but an elderly woman who had clearly over spent at the mall was in front of me struggling with her shopping bags. I lifted my roller bag over and around her to allow me a cross step in front of her, cutting her off but guaranteeing me a spot on the elevator even if I had to elbow a few departing passengers. Elevator Rule be damned…it had been thirty minutes. When I turned and found a place on the elevator a man gave me an approving nod as if to say “Nice Move”. The “shopper” was too busy organizing her purchases to notice. As the elevator started up I realized I would have to build in “Elevator time” to my morning commute. I started again to Google Taylor Swift lyrics.

Once in my room I figured out why this part of town seemed such a mess. There had been a bomb scare basically as I arrived related to last year’s or perhaps this year’s Bohston Marathon. That pretty much ruled out dinner outside the hotel and now the temperature had also dropped. The next morning I was greeted with snow on the ground, a quicker elevator trip thanks to a friendly worker who explained one flight down they arrived much fahstah, and I dodged “snice” Frisbees from the top of cahs on my way back up nahth. My meetings ended early and it was time to leave Boston and her pot holed filled streets. As I departed I breathed a sigh of relief. I had survived, for now, another wicked trip nahth.

*Kate Gosselin and her 48 kids live nearby as well…she does not live in a shoe.

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