18.10.09

The horror...

Maybe it wasn't actual horror, but it was nearer to Amityville than I've been before, so it just seemed appropriate.

Last night I had the pleasure of seeing #3 Niece marry her boyfriend of 12 years (they met at a basketball game in high school). The ceremony was in Queens, with the reception out on Long Island, so we'd have to spend the night at the Hempstead Hilton. Because of my chronic fatigue, the idea of staying in a hotel with uninterrupted sleep (something I never get), was really appealing.

How wrong I was.

First, the hotel didn't have my room ready. Now, I don't really care about two queens v. one king-sized bed. It's a bed, after all. So switching from one to the other wasn't an issue. What they didn't tell me was that the new room was on a smoking floor (really? a smoking floor? today???). That actually matters. They also failed to mention that the room was an indoor room, directly (as in "10 feet-ish") above the casual dining area, which wouldn't have been that bad. Except...

The hotel was the site for at least one wedding (and the dining area was set up for the evening reception) and was housing three others, including ours, and a class reunion. That dining area could get kinda noisy just as I'm trying to drift off, ya know? So Thing One and I switched rooms. His was on the other side of the building, on a non-smoking floor. All's good, right? Except...

The original room had a decent tub and I love to take baths. The new room was on the old fogies floor, with one of those wheelchair accessible bathrooms and sinks. No bathing. But that's ok, I could still read myself to sleep and get a good nine hours, right? Except...

At 2:19am there was a fire alarm. False, of course, probably set off by one of the cigar smokers from the class reunion or one of the drunken wedding guests. I was sort-of awake after and decided to read for a little longer except...

The light on the bedside table no longer worked. The bulb wasn't blown (I switched bulbs from the other lamp): the lamp just wouldn't turn on. Ok, I'll just go back to sleep. Except...

That's when I noticed that the pillows - ok, 3 of 4 on the bed - reeked of cigarette smoke. Ugh.

According to Thing One, every phone (including the two in my room) was flashing and no one could leave messages for anyone; some guests had to wait over an hour before their rooms were ready; #1 Niece's room contained a broken bed; and two siblings had broken toilets.

Upshot? My planned night of sleeping soundly and rising all ready to face the week with vim and vigor was shot. There's no way I am ever - and I mean it, ever - staying at that Hilton again.

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