The sbo Smell of Lose

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I felt like a rum and coke. I’m a beer man really, but the sbo mood was perfect for a sweet-tart syrup. The wife had the weary look, eyes extra wide, hair frazzled, and her attempts to smile made it seem like an extended frown had snapped backward from strain. The travel is usually the worst part.
It was about 11:00 when the 757 touched down in Vegas. There’s a tram ride to the main terminal and an long escalator to the sbo baggage claim. I called Otis from there.
“Don’t tell me you’re already here!” he screamed.
“I’m there in an hour,” I belched. But in Vegas, time has no meaning.
We took the airport shuttle to The PLAZA, which means we took it to 5 other hotels first. It was midnight when we strode through the automatic double doors. They slid open easily and revealed the long line inside. That was the last part of our stay there when anything went as planned.
Oooops. Sorry. I like that show too!
There was a line at check in, but that’s always expected. I used the time to call Al. He was at the MGM, with most of the other people I couldn’t wait to see, and as soon as I finished the call I was ready to check in.
I gave the man my name and he started typing.
He asked if I wanted a king or queen sized bed. I said I reserved a king. He frowned and continued typing. The wife’s eyes grew even larger and a storm was fast approaching.
“Sir, I only have a room with two queen bed,” he said.
“So why ask me which I prefer?” I wondered aloud.
More typing.
He then turned to the pretty woman to his left, who also started typing. It seems a queen size room would have to do, at least for tonight. But there WAS a silver lining….
“Here’s a key to room 1707,” he said, “its a king sized room for tomorrow. And here’s a key to room 1703, a queen sizd room for tonight”
I took both sets of keys and headed upstairs. The elevator took me to the 17th floor, which my wife noticed, had the same boiled cabbage smell we noticed in the lobby. At room 1703 the key worked and the door opened, to a room where the bed was unmade…
…and the TV was on.
…and someone else’s luggage sat on the floor.
…and someone else was suprised to see us there.
Apparantly the clerk got the room numbers confused. It seems this is tomorrow’s room and the key still works tonight. I think they were watching “SPORTSCENTER”, and I DO like that show.
So, more cabbage, we went down a few doors to room 1707. That key didn’t work. You know the type, of course, that little card that only works with just the right touch. I placed it, pushed it, rammed it, and eventually KICKED IT, right into the door itself.
That last bit provoked a good deal of suprise on the face of an non-English speaking Asian woman who was asleep inside that room. I’m a good sized man, about 6 foot 5 and FAT. The poor woman was scared to death.
And I was seriously PISSED as I marched back to the lobby.
“You gave me 2 sets of keys,” I said, “one works and one doesn’t BUT BOTH are to rooms with people already in them!”
He started typing.
It seems he wasn’t SUPPOSED to give me 2 sets of keys after all. And it seems he MEANT to write 1907 on the second set, that was our room tonight.
On the 19th level of cabbage stew we finally found our room. Which, in Vegas, in June was 114 degrees. The air conditioner didn’t work. They promised to fix it tomorrow.
The next night
After wandering the desert, I hit the vending machine for a bottle of water. The machiene didn’t work. I went to the stairway at the end of the hall thinking a nice corned beef would be nice, and opened the door to the stairwell, which of course, led directly OUTSIDE.
I’d comment on a warm blast of desert air here but remeber the hall was hot too. Instead we walked onto a narrow balcony 19 floors above the “experience” below, a dizzying and mildly nauseating “experience” indeed.
On 18 I found the water I needed and went to the cabbage-a-vator instead. On board was a woman with a bucket of ice. She stepped off onto that floor and said the ice machiene was broken, which keeps the streak of bad luck alive in every floor so far.
In out next trip report
Well, its all positive from here. Even the expericenes at the PLAZA get better, but only because of the company we kept. I have plenty of wild tales to tell, but first we start with this warning :
NEVER STAY AT THE PLAZA.
After cab fare to the strip it is not a price bargain. And, of course, it is the worst. hotel. EVER.