Ask the PI Moms

New York Day 1

Clearly Paris does NOT stay here. EVER. And unlike Ms. Hilton, we are NOT Princesses. We camp. We rough it. We do NOT however, desire to have a “camping” experience in our hotel room. It started with the room not having the promised 2 queen beds (for the 3 of us) then the furtive glance from the reservationist to the maintenance person along with, “Go spray the room–QUICKLY!”

Ms. Wishing we had Never Walked Through the Door Reservationist Woman: “I’m sorry, we are full so we will have a roll away bed brought to your room….” Char had the bright idea to relax in the bar with a cocktail.  I went to order as the “bar” was closing…I scanned the bar with Denise.  It looked more like a cafeteria and only beer bottles are visible on a high shelf–higher than one can reach…

Moi: “Can you make a lemon drop?”

The man stared at me blankly. I took that for a “no” and we hauled our luggage up to our “room” that had a smell of smoke that hit one smack in the face before the door was even open–no wonder she asked the maintenance person to spray. Worse, there clearly was no room for a roll away bed…I called the manager.

20 minutes later the bed arrived, furniture was removed from the room to make space for the bed and we were handed a bottle of Fabreeze and removed the used Q-tips from the space where the furniture had been on his way out…. eeeeyyyyouuuuuu!

Char: “Who’s taking the first Fabreeze shift???” We took turns obsessively spraying the smoke laden carpet.

Internet Frustrated Moi: “Why can’t I connect to the internet??” I dialed the front desk and the manager answered again.

Mr. I’ve Had it With the Room 203 Manager Man: “I am so sorry but we have no internet in the rooms only in the lobby…” Wow…what next? Bed bugs?? I shut the window and tried to get the heater to stop blowing cold air.

Char: “The heat’s on–I can SMELL it!” and it was true–the smell of burning hair permeated the room overpowering the smell of stale cigarette smoke.

Denise: “What are you doing?”

PI Paranoid Moi: “Moving the chair to prevent it from igniting…”

The phone rang–it was Mr. Manager Trying to be Nice Man.

Mr. Manager Trying to be Nice Man: “I am so sorry that one thing after another has gone horribly wrong for you–the beds, the smoke, the bar, the internet–I would comp the room for you but I cannot as you went through a third party to book it.  What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

Moi Trying Not to be a B*tch PI Mom: “Honestly? We plan to leave as early and as soon as possible…”

Mr. Manager Trying to be Even Nicer Man: “I understand. I would like to give you complimentary breakfast vouchers…”

Too bad we don’t eat breakfast! I kind gesture none the less.