Troubled waters
I’ve stayed in a lot of hotels. I have the basket of baby soaps and mini-shampoos to prove it. Every hotel has its own unique quirk. That’s a polite way of saying … they’re messed up.
I always have difficulty in the bathroom. That sounds way worse than it is.
I noticed the water in the shower is always extreme. You can click the faucet one degree and go from Popsicle to lava. I’ve jumped out of a lot of hotel showers. Nowadays, I wave my hand under the stream to make sure it’s a temperature that isn’t harmful to humans.
A few years ago, I was meeting my friend Heidi in Las Vegas. I drove in from L.A. and was there in plenty of time to meet her at the gate at McCarran International Airport. There was one problem. She was bumped off her late-night flight and would have to fly out the following morning. Here’s where it gets weird.
The room at the Venetian Hotel was under her name, and they wouldn’t let me crash in it. I said, “Well, just give me another room.”
The clerk told me they were sold out. I said, “I know there’s a room available. Heidi isn’t using the one you set aside for her. Give me that one.” The clerk wouldn’t go for it. It was some ridiculous legal mumbo jumbo.
I had to go find a room on a Friday night in Vegas. St. Joseph had better luck doing it, and he didn’t have Trivago back in the day. After I was turned down by the MGM Grand, Caesar’s Palace, Bally’s and Excalibur, I ended up at the Howard Johnson’s. Yes. There’s a HoJo in Sin City.
I stepped into the shower and pulled the big handle, and the valve came off in my hand. I jumped out, threw on a pair of shorts and called the front desk as the water poured out. I emphasized that it was an emergency as the bathroom began to flood. Yes. I wrecked a Vegas hotel room, and I’m not even a rock star! The damage was so bad they had to move me to another room, but I didn’t bathe until I picked Heidi up and checked into the Venetian the next day.
In Seville, Spain, I was sipping cava (a Spanish sparkling wine) by the pool. I drank way too much bubbly. My friends reminded me that we had a dinner reservation. When I went upstairs, I could not find the light switch in the bathroom. I even clapped (just in case). I called down to the lobby, but the clerk didn’t speak English. My friends, who spoke Spanish, were on another floor, and I didn’t want to bother them.
So, I showered in the dark. Hey, I know where all my bits and pieces are.
I giggled as I scrubbed. Showering in the dark is a lot funnier when you’re not sober.
These days, I approach hotel bathrooms cautiously.