Anyone who thinks travelling for work is fun and sexy.....is insane.
So, I am back after another quick road trip and I have the scars to show for my efforts. Let's begin with a very bumpy plane ride - enough to make someone who doesn't suffer from motion sickness to feel ill. The car I had reserved turned out to be little more than a coffin on wheels. I always get a mid-size vehicle as I want a little more sense of safety when I am driving an unfamiliar vehicle on highways. I felt shivers down my spine as a large truck flew past me causing me to fight to keep my vehicle on the road.
Well, I made it to my first meeting in one piece - no real thanks to the coffin car. All went well, but it ran a little over so in a hurry to get to the next appointment, I only had time to run through an A & W drive-thru, grab a burger and keep going. I was trying really hard to be careful - having even tucked a napkin under my chin to keep my blouse clean when another large truck flew past (my wee coffin car had about as much gusto as a 2 year old trying to roller skate uphill) and I had to again grab the wheel to fight to stay on the road. Needless to say, I now had ketchup and a pickle stuck to the front of my shirt. I find it always so reassuring to attend meetings with stained clothing. Nothing says respect more than a pickle in the lapel.
I made it through the meeting with a smidge of dignity left. I was not to know, any shred of dignity I might still have would soon be gone and I would hang my head in shame assuring myself I would never again return to this hotel.
Upon check-in, as I was reaching into my briefcase, which was balanced on top of my suitcase, my purse swung around and got knocked over and spilled all over the lobby floor. A group of kids chose that moment to burst through the front door and literally stomp on my toothpaste tube (I forgot to pack it in my suitcase so tossed it in my purse in the morning). It made quite a mess.
I felt I deserved a nice hot bath. After running across the street to the grocery store to pick up some fruit and a piece of chicken for dinner, I headed back to my room, ate dinner and ran a nice hot bath. I enjoyed the soothing warmth and felt myself relaxing. Afterwards, I slipped into my jammies to settle in for the evening. Just as I changed, I heard some noises - rather loud noises - outside. Since my balcony overlooked the parking lot, I thought I would pop outside and see what was going on while secretly hoping someone was stealing my car.
I slipped out to the balcony and since the evening was quite cool, slid the door closed behind me to keep my room warm. I couldn't really see what the problem was so turned to go back inside. Imagine my surprise to discover that the lever on the handle was loose enough to plop down when I slid the sliding door close....AND LOCK! I was trapped...in my nightie...on the balcony.
My mind started to race. My first thought was "crap, now I gotta pee". My second thought was " You must be FREAKIN kidding me!" When I calmed down, I tried the only thing I could do. I started to yell for help. Mind you, I was almost whispering at first as I wasn't at all sure I actually wanted anyone to find me like this. There I was, in my favorite nightie, which quite frankly I wear more for comfort than for looks and it looks like it and a pair of white tube socks to keep my feet warm. Very attractive. I am sure some of you are wondering how come I am still single.
Gradually, since I was freezing my butt off, my voice got louder and I noticed a couple walking across the parking lot. After they stopped laughing, they agreed to go to the front desk to get help. After about 3 minutes, I could hear repeated attempts to get into my room. However, since I am safety conscience when I travel, I had thrown the saftey catch on the door and they could not get in. Another few minutes passed - seemed like about 10 - and a man showed up with a ladder to climb up to my balcony - thankfully I was only on the 2nd floor. He had a drill or something and took one of the sliders off my door so I could get in. Graciously, he barely looked at me. Actually, I am not sure I wasn't insulted by him not even glancing at me. He kept his eyes down the whole time. Perhaps he was just trying to keep a straight face at the situation rather than being grossed out by my appearance. (Did I mention I was also wearing face cream?)
When I checked-out in the morning, I was sure that word had spread through the staff when the clerk asked me if I ever warmed up and if perhaps the next time I stayed with them, I would consider packing a housecoat or robe. Ha Ha
Have a coffee date on both Friday and Saturday. Friday is a new guy - Saturday is a repeat performance.
Keep you posted.