Key to Success
My adventures with Hotel/Motels never seem to end. Last weekend I had reservations for Friday and Saturday nights at the Holiday Inn in beautiful (Midtown) Beaumont,Texas to attend a bridge tournament. My initial attempt to register at 2 PM was rebuffed because it was too early, so I returned at 6 PM with another couple who were also checking in. I finished first and was assigned room 426, my friends got 404. (Hmm, I thought, sounds like that sign on my forehead that says “likes to be as far from the elevator as possible” was still working). Sure enough, as I turn from the 4th floor elevator lobby room 404 is two doors down while I begin the trek to the end of the hall. A strange situation develops; in that starting with room 412 all the doors are propped open with the dead bolts and there are signs covering the room numbers stating that the doors are covered with fresh (wet) paint. I count down to 426 and verify the room number by lifting the “wet paint” sign. We enter and everything seems to be in order.
After stowing our belongings I attempt to turn on the TV with the remote. No go. I turn it on manually and try to use the remote to change the channel or volume. Uh-uh.
I call the desk and within five minutes someone knocks and hands me a new remote and leaves. The same success (failure) with that model. Another call and a man comes in to the room with a third remote and still cannot get it to work. He leaves and returns in 10 minutes with an instruction manual and finally gets it to work – yea!
As we leave the room at 7:30 to meet our friends for dinner I try to verify that the “key”, one of those credit card size plastic things, will work on our door. Red light, red light – apparently it doesn’t work so I stop at the desk on the way to dinner to get it reprogrammed. We have a fine filling dinner and return for a nice after dinner drink and relaxation in our lovely room. Oops, the new key does not work, so down the long hall and into the elevator I go. Try again, says the desk person, I do, It don’t. Once more, down to the desk. This time they make me a copy of the “master key” which will open any room in the house. Well, maybe every room except 426. I call the desk from a phone by the elevator on the 4th floor, being exhausted from all the ups and downs thus far. “We will send someone right up” Ten minutes later I call to inquire about the emergency crew and after giving my name am told that I am not registered at the Hotel.
Respelling my name brings forth the shocked statement that “You’re in room 426!” Duh. Oh we sent them to 226. The calvary, in the persons of a man and a woman with lots of key stuff try unsuccessfully to break into the vault. “We will get your belongings; we need to call the master technician. We are going to ‘comp’ you for one night for your inconvenience. Meanwhile, we will put you in another room and bring your stuff to you shortly.” We are relocated to room 406! Huh! My sign must be off. It’s now about 9:30 and we try to be calm. I decide to close the “room darkening” curtain and as I grasp the left hand side, the curtain falls to the floor. After a half hour or so, I look out the door and down the hall to see if the demolition team is there. Nope. Maybe they need a nudge. I call the desk and tell the clerk I see no action and that I have medicine in the room and am sure that the fire department or the police department can get the door open. A brief conference and a man tells me that they are so sorry and that they promise it will be only 20-25 minutes and that they will “comp” both nights and provide free breakfast. I agree not to call the cops. Thirty minutes later I open my door and look to the left, toward room 426 and nothing is happening. I then hear a noise coming from the right. A young man appears with an empty luggage cart and with him is an elderly black man with a cane in one hand and the magic key machine in the other. He shuffles slowly in my direction. “Are you the master technician?” I ask. “That’s what they tell me.” At least he had the magic box that plugged into the bottom of the lock and after burning incense and a few secret chants the much sought after green light appeared and the door was opened. The cart was quickly loaded and pushed rapidly to room 406 where I dug out my medicine (Jack Daniels) as the saga ends on a happy note.
After stowing our belongings I attempt to turn on the TV with the remote. No go. I turn it on manually and try to use the remote to change the channel or volume. Uh-uh.
I call the desk and within five minutes someone knocks and hands me a new remote and leaves. The same success (failure) with that model. Another call and a man comes in to the room with a third remote and still cannot get it to work. He leaves and returns in 10 minutes with an instruction manual and finally gets it to work – yea!
As we leave the room at 7:30 to meet our friends for dinner I try to verify that the “key”, one of those credit card size plastic things, will work on our door. Red light, red light – apparently it doesn’t work so I stop at the desk on the way to dinner to get it reprogrammed. We have a fine filling dinner and return for a nice after dinner drink and relaxation in our lovely room. Oops, the new key does not work, so down the long hall and into the elevator I go. Try again, says the desk person, I do, It don’t. Once more, down to the desk. This time they make me a copy of the “master key” which will open any room in the house. Well, maybe every room except 426. I call the desk from a phone by the elevator on the 4th floor, being exhausted from all the ups and downs thus far. “We will send someone right up” Ten minutes later I call to inquire about the emergency crew and after giving my name am told that I am not registered at the Hotel.
Respelling my name brings forth the shocked statement that “You’re in room 426!” Duh. Oh we sent them to 226. The calvary, in the persons of a man and a woman with lots of key stuff try unsuccessfully to break into the vault. “We will get your belongings; we need to call the master technician. We are going to ‘comp’ you for one night for your inconvenience. Meanwhile, we will put you in another room and bring your stuff to you shortly.” We are relocated to room 406! Huh! My sign must be off. It’s now about 9:30 and we try to be calm. I decide to close the “room darkening” curtain and as I grasp the left hand side, the curtain falls to the floor. After a half hour or so, I look out the door and down the hall to see if the demolition team is there. Nope. Maybe they need a nudge. I call the desk and tell the clerk I see no action and that I have medicine in the room and am sure that the fire department or the police department can get the door open. A brief conference and a man tells me that they are so sorry and that they promise it will be only 20-25 minutes and that they will “comp” both nights and provide free breakfast. I agree not to call the cops. Thirty minutes later I open my door and look to the left, toward room 426 and nothing is happening. I then hear a noise coming from the right. A young man appears with an empty luggage cart and with him is an elderly black man with a cane in one hand and the magic key machine in the other. He shuffles slowly in my direction. “Are you the master technician?” I ask. “That’s what they tell me.” At least he had the magic box that plugged into the bottom of the lock and after burning incense and a few secret chants the much sought after green light appeared and the door was opened. The cart was quickly loaded and pushed rapidly to room 406 where I dug out my medicine (Jack Daniels) as the saga ends on a happy note.
posted by revsnodgrass | 2:46 PM
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