Thursday, December 3, 2009

Particularly Annoying

Let's talk about last night.

I got to see a good friend of mine, Lainey while I'm working out here in Baltimore. It was fun to catch up, and she made me watch all the Big10/ACC basketball tourney games, which was fun because it was the first time I ever watched it, and what do you know? We won for the first time in 11 years. Coincidence? I think not.

Anyways. So she leaves (I'm at a hotel, mind you) and I read a few chapters of Jane Erye (I'm on a big reading kick right now.) Then as I'm falling asleep, it starts to rain. This made me happy because I love falling asleep to the sound of rain. Then I hear: Drip, Drip, Drip. Which turns into Thud, Thud, Thud. And somewhere else I hear what I am calling Squidge, Squidge, Squidge. The squidge sound sort of made me cringe every time I heard it.

What the heck, is it raining in my flipping room? And the short answer is yes, it is.

But I'm not a short answer kind of person.

I get up close to inspect the window, and I feel a drop of water on my shoulder. I look around and before I know it I realize that the ceiling is FLIPPING leaking from at least 5 different spots. One spot is hitting the chair (drip, drip, drip) three spots are hitting the carpet (Squidge, squidge, squidge) and one spot is hitting a lampshade (thud, thud, thud.)

So I pick up the phone and call the front desk.
"Hi, my ceiling is leaking from way more than one spot. And by way more I mean 8."
(I tend to exaggerate in stressful situations.)
"Well, would you like to move rooms?"
-Me, glancing around the room at all my work stuff sprawled on the desk, dirty clothes in a pile, things plugged in everywhere and imagining all my stuff spread out over the bathroom sink.
"No, I don't think so it's pretty late and I've got all my stuff --er-- unpacked."
"Well, would you like me to send the maintenance guy up?"
-Me, imagining a creeper knocking on my door then spending an hour awkwardly talking to me while he pretends to fix anywhere from 5 to 23 leaks. (Can you even repair a leak from the inside?)
"Um, no I don't think I feel comfortable with that."
"Well those are the two options I can think of, so unless you had another idea?"
-Me, feeling stupid because I obviously didn't think this call through before I picked up the phone.
"Um, okay-- I'll call back if I decide to change rooms, or we can just deal with it in the morning. Thanks..."

Unless I wanted to pack up all my stuff, it looked like I was sleeping in the leaky room. So I moved the chair and the lamp (both now covered in what looks like a vomit-substance because of the plaster mixed with water) to eliminate the sound, and I put towels on the floor because I thought this would make the squidge sound a little more "padded." I turned the fan on high, and moved as far to the other side of the bed as possible (away from the leaks.)

With a pillow over my head I finally fell asleep to a symphony of Squidge, drip, squidge, drip, splatter.

Only I didn't sleep well because I kept dreaming that water was dripping onto my face. I would wake up, turn on the light-- check the ceiling, realize my face was in fact dry, turn off the light, put the pillow back over my head and repeat the above sequence.

My question is though, how do you let a hotel room in Baltimore develop leaks in 5 different spots!? It seems like a very busy hotel, and Baltimore gets a decent amount of rain-- and I'm willing to bet I wasn't the first to experience this, especially reflecting on the reaction of the hotel desk clerk.

I think I deserve a complimentary night. I only stay at this particular brand every time I travel, and I certainly didn't pay $110+ dollars a night for a leaky roof!

I usually get a "How was your stay?" e-mail a day or two after I check out, and though I have never responded to it or filled out the accompanying survey, in this particular instance they will be receiving a particular link, to a particular blog and should be particularly happy that I didn't mention a particular hotel brand.

Moral of the story: I am such a nice person. (You already drew that conclusion though, didn't you?)

The end.

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1 comment:

  1. OMG, I was laughing the whole time I read this because I could just picture it...Clothes, shoes, jewelry, electronics, magazines all over the room, not a damned thing in the suitcase (which was pry wide open in the middle of the floor). And then I am also picturing the disheveled look that you must have had rummaging around your room trying to self-rectify your leaky roof! This is rich...few things (1) I am now a follower of your blog, this story single handedly made me a fan, (2) call that chain up and get a free night, if you need someone who’s a bit pusher you know who to call.

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