4:10 p.m. - 2007-10-16
Room Service? Room Service!
NOW, I realize that in "The Shining" it wasn't Scatman Crothers who was the axe-wielding maniac, that he in fact showed up to warn the family of their imminent doom, alerted by his...SHINING! It's just that saying "Look out for Scatmen" is more fun to say than "Look out for Nicholsons". Really, try it sometime. Plus, my warning (see previous post) wasn't entirely off base, since Scatman wouldn't have made an appearance had there not been terrible violence forthcoming. If you see any Scatmen, RUN...not necessarily from Mr Crothers himself, but from the agent of the terrible deeds he's warning against. Good, that's all cleared up. Let us continue.
*We returned to our room and discussed what was to be done about our wine stores, now in dangerously short supply. The resort featured room service. If we called a certain in-hotel phone number, we could order a bottle of wine and someone would bring it to our room. It would be expensive, but with a little luck it just might work. It was decided that I would make the necessary arrangements. I was more than a little nervous, having never ordered room service. I called the number and requested a bottle of red wine with "frog" in the name. They had it in stock. I asked if I could pay the fee COD, using a combination of cash and a twenty-dollar food/beverage coupon that came with the room. The young man on the phone said that yes, that would be fine, that the wine would be on its way presently. I said thank you and hung up. I'd taken the first step. Now a tense period of waiting would follow, waiting for the knock on the door. The knock on the door could come at any second. I'd have to be prepared. According to the room service menu in the resort amenities guide, the wine cost twenty bottles per bottle. In addition, there would be an eighteen percent gratuity. I wondered, did the gratuity go directly to the person who would actually be bringing us the bottle, or would I have to tip the server independently of the bill? Does the word gratuity have a different meaning in room service than in common usage? Plus, why don't they, instead of making people bring you room service, have a dumbwaiter in each room? Dumbwaiters would be efficient and fun, leading to all manner of potentially dangerous hijinks. But no, we were in the REAL WORLD here and I would have to calculate the money we owed. I only had a twenty and some ones. The ones, plus the coupon, wouldn't be enough. The twenty would be too much. I asked Kia if she had fives or tens. She did not. Things were getting tense. I calculated that we would need five to eight dollars on top of the voucher. Could I get change? We waited, helpless.
FINALLY, a knock on the door. Was it? IT WAS. Room service. The young woman was very professional as she handed me a pre-corked bottle. She showed me the bill. DAMMIT ALL, I'd forgotten "tax"! And some kind of "service fee". I'd have to use the twenty and hope for change. I fumbled with the bill, coupon and money, murmuring as I did, "So okay, they said I could use this coupon thing and cash, uh, yeah so, does the gratuity on here, does that take care of you?" I was assured that it did, and handed her the coupon plus the twenty dollars. The change was seven dollars and change. Only she didn't have it on her. She would have to run to god knows where in this huge building and bring it back. Unless I didn't need change. "Do you, um, need change...?" she asked, momentarily sounding as flummoxed by room service as I was. If it had been less than five dollars, I'm sure I would have said no. Instead, "Um. Yeah. Sorry for not having smaller..." "Oh no, that's okay, I'll be right back," and she was gone again. Now we had wine, but the transaction still wasn't complete. More waiting had to be done. We plotted our next move. Once the room service imbroglio had been solved we would go for food. Perhaps one of the two places we'd passed during our earlier jaunt into town. There had been talk earlier of steak. Steak was a rare indulgence that, if well-prepared, we would enjoy greatly. Perhaps there would be some sort of potato involved. Then the door was knocked upon again. It was the same room service woman as before. She graciously handed me change. I asked again--just to be sure beyond a scintilla of a doubt--if the gratuity on the bill covered her tip. Again, I was assured that it did. I thanked her and tipped her two extra dollars for the trouble of change-running and she went on her way.
Kia and I agreed that our first room service had gone well indeed. The proof was in the wine. Our resort stay was going very well. After a couple minutes of basking in our success, we ventured into the night with visions of steak dancing in our heads.
