I’M BACK!

In all my glory and agony. After spending a very long and tiring weekend in Albany, NY, it is good to be home. You see the problem is just that. Problems. I get to Albany and go to the Crowne Plaza Hotel, that over looks the Capital building, and go to the front desk. “Sorry, we are not taking check-ins until 4:00, PM.” It is 2:00 pm and I have two hours to kill. Along with two other colleagues, we decide to look for something to eat. We find this great sandwich shop, walk around a little and head by the hotel one hour later. Of course there is a long line of people checking in. I looks like one of those lines that one sees at a gate for popular tickets to some popular event.

After about 30 minutes on this line, I reach the front desk, get my key and off I go to my room, 809. I slip the key in, and nothing happens. I turn it around and slip it in, nothing happens. I turn it upside down and try again, nothing. I get frustrated and read the key info, stick it in and nothing. Leaning against the door, feeling tired, sick from a head cold and angry I try one more time. Nothing, nada, nien, nunca, nil, and uh-uh. I march down to the lobby to the front desk, the long line is longer, I will not get on the line again. I look for the concierge, to tell him my plight, but he is busy with people, I side step to the front desk and out loud tell the lady: “my keys does not work: she looks up and takes the key, asks me for ID, my room number and redoes the key.

Now in this great land there are many ways to inform people about what they should do. One is newspapers, radio, TV, billboards, and even the cheapest form of all: word of mouth. She informs me of what has happened. “Did you put the key near a cell phone or credit card? Because if you did, don’t.”
Well gee, thanks, could someone have mentioned this to me when they gave me the friggen card? Hum?

In my room, finally, I start to unpack and suddenly hear a juggling at my door. Now who the hell is that, I ask myself. I go to the door, and there behind it is some guy with his suitcase, garment bag and key, trying to get in the room. He looks up and says: “Oh, are you in this room?” “Yes I am” states I. As he heads back to the elevator, I tell him: “Don’t put the key near a cell phone or credit card.”

Back to my room, as I pull out the ironing board, and start to iron a shirt I need for dinner when all of a sudden phone rings. “EYELLOW” “Yes. This is the hotel staff, could you state you name for us, there seems to be a slight mixup.” “Yes, DelBloggolo” “Thank kew. Sorry to have disturbed you.” In my mind I’m think, “Yes, that’s spelled Y-O-U-I-D-I-O-T.”

Back to the ironing board, the door starts jiggling again, and this time it opens! Fortunately, I’m still dressed and who is it but a staff person holding a little bottle of body lotion. A cute little Asian lady with a heavy accent trying to convey that she thought the room was unoccupied. Yes, with a long line of people in the lobby, waiting to climb in with me. “Ha-hue iron!” “Yes, you never know who might be dropping by.”