After becoming a stunt double for Indiana Jones the other day, we received a very weird phone call from HH's watch floor on our cell as we were driving to DF's house. "Ma'm your husband has left something important and valuable at the Navy Lodge...maybe you should call them...it may be his wallet is what the women said." Oh, really...I quickly take a mental inventory: we haven't checked out of our room, HH has his wallet, Kendo kitty was secured into his kennel before we left for our hike, and we have our two darlin's so nope...nothing valuable left behind.
I quickly tracked down the number for the lodge and was greeted by a very unfriendly voice, "you left cat in room...you should 'ave taken cat!" What?!?! Why in earth would I do that? It's OUR room until the 1 Aug! We have our registration card, recent credit card transaction, and payment receipt showing we paid for Kendo to be in that room until 1 Aug. What in the world is going on? I was frantic. I was speaking to someone with little English and who obviously was stuck on one fact: our cat was in his kennel in our room and we had left him. Duh. The rules state to do that. Would someone PLEASE explain what is going on? "I have person call you back" was the unidentified woman's response.
I waited, I stewed. My blood pressure rose and the claws began to come out. What on earth is it now? They had already lost our original reservations, claimed we had never made them, gave us a room once they figured out we didn't have stupid written on our foreheads and then said, "so sorry. Glad we could fix the problem." Yeah. wish that would have been true.
The cell phone rings again, "ummm...we moved your belongings from your room and have placed them in a single room. You will be there for the rest of your stay. We needed that room for another guest." Silence. Blood boiling. "You did what?!?!" The screech of tires, shouting that this is some way to show Aloha spirit, and blood pressure still sky rocketing out to the outer reaches of space.
As we pulled up to the lodge, I looked at HH and said, "I'll just come in as a witness to what they say...I'll be good. I promise." Note to self, don't make promises you can't keep. In this case, I couldn't keep it. The manager tried to discuss how sorry she was...the other guest had a reservation after all and demanded that room. Thinking to myself, "I don't care if the guest were the pope himself. You've kicked us out of a room that was already in a contract." The bull**** factor was high and after tearing into her we headed to our "new" room.
New room was hot, muggy, hot waterless, and did I mention that it was HOT?!?! I don't do well in hot. That's why God invented someone to make AC. That evening, I tallied up the amount of times I called the front desk for things that were broken in the room or missing from our belongings: 10 times. Calls made to the front desk over the last month: 0. I am not a b****, but I just don't do well with bull****, and that was what was happening. The staff reeked of it.
Next morning, after not sleeping, my mom calls from the mainland. "Honey, I got a suite at the lodge...they have them available. Get them to switch you back to a suite. You're never going to survive unless you have space. Your HH needs to sleep all day to get ready for his night watches. Get them to switch you." I love you mom! Just goes to show that no matter how old you get, you always need your mommy.
"Central reservations is wrong, sir. There are no rooms."
"Really? Then why did you just give one to my mother-in-law?" HH says through clenched teeth.
"Ummm....well..."
"I suggest you check again!"
"Uh...ummm.."
"Is there a suite or not?"
"Ummmm...uhhh...I'll call you in a minute.
A second passes and the manager calls.
"Sir, we are moving you to a suite this afternon as soon as possible."
You bet your a** you will! I have to admit, I still can't muster a simple "hello", a nod, or anything else that resembles politeness to these incompetent people. (Papa, I'm staying on the highroad, I'm just choosing to ignore those on other roads around me.) We are in the countdown until we are in our house. For Pete's sake, who in their right mind really wants to live out of a suitcase for two months? Not me, but when you are moving, you do things that you have to do to survive. Thankfully, I was able to trade in my boots for flip-flops when we began this journey to Hawaii. Just like my boots, they're made for walkin' and as the people here in the lodge found out, they're made for walkin' all over you when you try to pull any bull**** on this clan during a PCS. My motto has changed for the moment to:
3 comments:
Dear One,
I am sorry, but I had to giggle! I could just picture what went on...Do they not speak the English language there. Do they always leave out article adjectives and use the wrong verb tense...This is going to be hard for the teacher me!
Yep, that's what mom's are for...doing an end run while you are trying to sleep. There may be an advantage to being six hours ahead of you. Thanks for the appreciation. I almost called the lodge when I heard they had a suite, but I knew you could walk on over them on your own armed with a little inside information!
I am not the only one reading your blog. Aunt Mary told me last night that she loves reading them and seeing the pictures.
You go, girl. VENT AWAY! It is good for the soul!
OK...Having noted the lack of English grammar sense in "paradise," I also must note that I asked rhetorical questions and did not put in question marks! What's up with that? I am already adopting an island mentality...abandon all hope all ye who enter there!
Okay girl, boy Navy Lodges just don't change no matter where you are. Way to keep on truckin' and absolutely get some hip waders for all the bulls*** you are wading through, no need to get your toenails all messy!!!! We are frying like eggs here in Florida, it is really, really hot lately.
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