Entangled With Ivy - contd. again
Hey, I’m back with our continuing story. In my first Ivy post, we talked about hotel adventures—walking in occupied rooms, fire alarms, and Jacuzzis. In the next post you met Ivy. When we left she was trying to charge me $1,048 for four nights stay. We also met John, another customer who happened to be pretty and tripped Ivy’s switch.
“It still can’t be worth two-hundred fifty dollars a night.”
Ivy had a problem. On one side, the computer was telling her she was right. On the other, I was telling her she was wrong.
We argued for fifteen minutes. Finally, John came to my rescue. “Ivy, that can’t be right.” It could have been his hair, but in one sentence, five words, she was convinced.
Ensuring me they would catch me later for my signature on a credit card slip, Ivy shooed me off to my room, and leaned over to concentrate on John.
The room looked like hundreds of other hotel rooms. The living/bedroom had the king bed Ivy was so proud of, there was a chifforobe with a TV inside, a desk with a coffeemaker, six lights, and eight light switches. I tried every combination of light switch I could think of, holding my mouth in a variety of ways, speaking magic words, and I couldn’t make any of the lights in the living/bedroom work. I had to call.
“Ivy, how you doin?”
“Mister Lewis, I’m good. How are you?”
“I have six lights in my bedroom and it’s dark.”
“You mean your lights don’t work?”
“Yep.”
“None of them?”
“Nope.”
She assured me Maintenance would be right up.
On the way to the hotel, I had stopped for take-out Chinese. I planned to relax, eat supper, watch a little TV, and turn in early. I opened my bag and pulled out mu shu pork, rice, and an egg roll. No fork. I didn’t even have chopsticks. I had to visit Ivy.
As I approached the front desk, even though he had saved me, I was glad that John was gone. “Ivy, how you doin?”
“I’m good Mister Lewis. How are you?”
“I’m good, but I need a fork.”
“I don’t have forks.”
“Ivy, you have a restaurant.”
“Yes sir, Mister Lewis.”
“You have a bar.”
“Yeah, but they aren’t open.”
“You’re going to serve breakfast in the morning.”
“Yeah. But I still don’t have a fork.”
“Okay. I’m going out to find a fork. Don’t let Maintenance go up while I’m gone.”
“They haven’t been there yet?”
“Haven’t seen ‘em.”
“I’ll send them up as soon as you get back.”
I walked down the street to KFC, or Kentucky Fried Chicken, or Colonel Sanders, depending on when you were born. I bought a tea, and they threw in a fork for free.
I told Ivy I’d returned, went back to room, sat in the dark, ate cold Chinese, watched TV, and waited for Maintenance. At 10:00, I had to call. “Ivy, how you doin?”
“I’m good Mr. Lewis. How about you?”
“I’m good, but it’s still dark up here.”
“I can’t believe they haven’t come yet. I’ll call them right now.”
“Right now, I want to go to bed, but I would really appreciate it if you could get them up here tomorrow? By the way, am I supposed to have HBO?”
“Of course. All the rooms do.”
“Mine doesn’t.”
“It’s on channel seven.”
“Not on my TV.”
“I’ll have them look at that, too.”
“And ivy, could you put me in for a six o-clock wake-up call?”
I’m a trusting person, and I believe in giving people a chance, but I set the alarm clock.
It’s been a long post so I’ve probably said enough for now. I assure you I will get light, and the alarm clock works. Only two more to go. I’m loving your stories, leave more.