When we last convened, Val had managed to confuse 33.3 % of her commenters.
When I booked our "free" room, the lady on the phone said that the dates of our stay did not warrant TWO free nights, only one. But that if another member of our party had a free room comp, we could apply that to our second night, and get it free also.
Of course you know what happened.
We met my sister the ex-mayor's wife and the ex-mayor at valet parking on Sunday afternoon. From there we went to the hotel check-in desk. The lady said that my second night would be $98.00, and I explained that "Marilyn" had told me on the phone that I could use another member of my party's free room comp. Sis presented her mailer with the free room.
Well! That mousy little lady was flabbergasted! "You can't do that. I can't let you use this lady's comp if she's not staying in your room."
Sis told her, "Look. I AM her sister! I'm not some random woman she found in the lobby and asked for her comp. I am staying on my husband's comp, and not using mine. My sister here was told that she could use my comp for her second night."
While Sis and I were haggling with Mousy, Hick and Ex-Mayor and Genius
and The Pony hung back like proper menfolk, doing whatever menfolk do,
lettin' us gals do the work. They ain't so good with words, those
menfolk. I didn't use the teacher-eyes in the back of my head, but I
imagined Hick slicing off a plug of tobacco for Ex-Mayor, proffering it
to him on the blade of his pocket knife. Genius and The Pony, clad in
overalls, no shirts, and no shoes, being seen and not heard. Genius,
perhaps, sitting on an overturned washtub, whittling a slingshot, and
The Pony stretched out on the floor like a boneless hound dog. Both of
them soaking in the words of wisdom of their elders.
It probably didn't help that Sis was wearing movie star sunglasses because her regular reading glasses were up in her room. Mousy was at an impasse, so we asked for a supervisor. Who was an absolute doll, all take-charge and personable, walking Mousy through what to do in order to get my second night free. Sis and I both signed a paper concerning the transaction. Supervisor acted like it was no big deal. THAT is customer service.
Sooo...I got my free room, we took our stuff upstairs, and then hit the road to visit 4 casinos that evening, before coming back to play at Downstream into the night.
Let's fast-forward here over the other stories so that we can get to checkout time. Sis and Ex-Mayor left on Monday morning after breakfast, but Thevictorians stayed until Tuesday. Hick and Genius were mocking me for wanting to take the room cards to the desk.
"Mom. There's a card drop down by the elevators."
"He's right, Val. I always just leave the cards in the room. They'll know we're gone."
"But if I go to the desk, they'll know right then. They can start cleaning so other people can check in early. WE got to check in at 2:45, and it wasn't supposed to be until 4:00. That saved us time to GAMBLE!"
"Do what you want. You're going to anyway."
"I don't see why it matters if I'm standing at the desk, or standing out front waiting for the valet. Besides, I want to make sure the free room is taken care of."
Good thing I was selfless like that, wanting future free-stayers to get to gambling quicker. I approached the desk and saw the only person working was a short little bald man who looked like character actor John Fiedler. (He was lawyer J. Noble Daggett in True Grit! And Mr. Peterson on The Bob Newhart Show. And the voice of Piglet in Winnie the Pooh.)
Anyhoo...this guy was not nearly so personable as John Fiedler. He was just a walking poster boy for Little Man Syndrome.
"That will be $112 for your second night. Did you want to leave that charge on your credit card?"
"No. That room was comped. We talked to a supervisor when we checked in. My sister used her comp. We both signed a paper for that transaction." I gave all pertinent details concerning names, room numbers, and dates.
Not-John-Fiedler was getting pissier by the moment. He strutted around behind a partition. Came back to the computer. Huffed a couple of times. And dragged a long milk crate kind of bin out from under the counter. He thumbed through about 100 papers, and found the two signed by Sis and me.
"Oh. So your sister SIGNED for the room, even though she didn't STAY in it?"
I should have just told him she did stay in it, that we separated the gals from the menfolk. But I didn't think of it. What's their problem, anyway? They had six of us in two rooms, spending money hand over fist in their casino, and paying for food in three of their restaurants. That's why they GIVE free rooms, right? To bring you in to spend your money?
"We were told by a supervisor that the room would be comped." I have learned not to engage with a person having a snit fit. Just stick to the facts. And repeat them. Often.
"You know, I have no way of knowing this. There is nothing in the computer about it."
"The supervisor told the girl how to put it in the computer. You have the paperwork we signed right there."
"I'll take care of it." Not-John-Fielder threw up his tiny arms in exasperation. As I walked away, I heard him muttering.
I told Sis that we'll probably BOTH be charged, and Not-John-Fiedler will destroy that paperwork. Maybe I should have asked for a copy.
But other than THAT...the facility was beautiful, and we had great time, and I can't wait for my next free offer to go back.