Some Days are Golden, Some are Maroon

OK… now I feel like a Maroon.

I am away. On a business trip. A looong way from home.

Business finishes early, but my reservations are cast in financial concrete. Back at the hotel, I wander down to the concierge (that’s what you call the afternoon manager at Best Western when you need to ask him a question) and inquire as to the location of the nearest decent steak house. Being a good concierge and obviously concerned for my expense account, he suggests that the nearest Red Robin might be just the ticket. I counter with the concept that when you stray from a given establishments forte menu item, you are treading on a very slippery slope. Does Red Robin even serve whole meat without feathers? He finally begins to get my drift and does make a reasonable offer. I consider it.

Before dining, I head down to the business center to print tomorrows boarding passes. The computer requests my password. Back to concierge. “Oh, yes! I’ll give you the password, but it won’t do you any good. The Internet is down.” I explain that I have just come down from my room where I checked my e-mail. That Internet was working fine. “Well, we have a different Internet down here and it isn’t working at all!” He’s right. 

Hmmmmm

I abandon the whole steak plan and walk a half-block to Wendy’s for a forbidden cheeseburger with bacon. Maybe his Internet will be fixed when I get back.

Delicious. And 'Ain't Happening'...No printer for you, Kemosabe.....

Back in the room, I stand admiring the In-Room-Spa sized for four. I am traveling alone this trip, more’s the pity, but not wanting the Spa to go unappreciated, I decide to fill it and flounder around by myself. I can turn on the water from the floor, but it is impossible to actually touch the water to say…. oh… feel the temperature or whatever without actually being “in the spa,” so to speak. To avoid obvious later disappointment, I disrobe, and clamber in to check the water. At my age you don’t ‘step’ into a spa…clambering is the most generous description that can legitimately be applied here.

At the risk of giving the whole plot away at this point in the story, let me say that my rental car is a technological WunderKar. The radio doubles as a rearview TV when reversing. And it picks up music from outer space. To start the thing, you simply push a button. When you are finished driving another push of the same button shuts it off…..

Back in the Spa. I am standing buck nekkid, ankle deep in the tepid water of the ‘just clambered into' Spa when hotel phone rings. This strikes me as rather odd because nobody who needs to call me knows exactly where in the Sam Hell I am. 

Again, Hmmm.

I execute the Much Vaunted but Seldom Seen ‘Reverse Clamber’ and slosh my way to the insistent instrument. Hello? 

“Good evening, Sir! This is the Front Desk." 

Hardly ever a welcome call unless expecting a package from UPS or the Pizza Boy. 

"We are attempting to locate the driver of a car in our parking lot which has been sitting with the motor running for several hours. Which vehicle is yours?” 

With a sinking feeling I confess both Make and Model. 

With a barely concealed squeal of glee, she replies, “Well, Sir, I believe it is yours!” She is delighted because finally she can can quit calling rooms, and now I know why they ask for your auto's curriculum vitae at registration...Information I chose not to provide...... as a security measure, of course.....I stare at the "Keys" to my WunderKar sitting on the dresser, I think about the button on the dash.....Krap!

I start to explain that I am part of the WunderKar test team conducting “Long Term Idling Tests” at Best Western altitudes, but I can tell that her Geezer B.S. Radar is finely tuned and she’s not buying any of it.

I thank her, dry off from the ankles down, dress, sorta…..and slither down stairs, praying there is no thundering crowd to cheer me on the last 20 yards. I'm sure when she disconnected, she shouted "Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a winner!" Funny, I don't feel exactly like a winner.....more like a Maroon.

Oh…the quadruple In-Room-Spa solo act…don’t bother…….it's just no fun by your self, and if you doze off (highly likely at my age), your Kindle gets to test the Submarine Clause in Amazon's warrantee.

Geez....Ida swore I pressed that danged button the second time…….mumble…mutter….mmmmph ........

Hmmm...wonder if the boss will notice I used $80.00 in fuel on a twenty-mile round trip?

p.s. A big tip-o-the-hat to the Manager of the local Guitar Center who graciously allowed me to get a solid 'Guitar Fix' this afternoon playing his $3000 instruments so far from my babies.....There is this one Martin I played, it was like soft butter in my hands, and such a bargan at only $1999........nnaaahh, I dasn't........