There is, in fact, a Room 464
Let’s huddle up and discuss one of the funniest and most pathetic moments of travel season thus far.
Last Friday I had driven hither, thither, yon, and yonder – from near Canada to New Jersey – and had finally arrived at my hotel for the night. Not wanting to take multiple trips back and forth to the car, I loaded up like a pack mule and headed inside. To paint a picture: backpack, overnight bag, laptop bag, purse – which contained, among other things, a travel mug, a blender, and a bible – rolling bag, and my dinner from Panera. Seriously. Stop the madness. My 2014 resolution might be learning how to pack all of my necessary belongings in a single bag.
In I go with twice my body weight strapped to me in one fashion or another. I get my room key and take the elevator up to the 4th floor. I follow the signs through what can only be described as one of those mazes for mice with the prize at the end. At one point in the trek I literally went into half-marathon mode, coaching myself into taking one step after another – which sounds dramatic, and it totally was. The pieces of me usually held together by caffeine and carbohydrates were rapidly coming unglued.
So imagine my dismay when I reach a brick wall at the end of all of the hallways…and the last room is Room 459.
I actually tried to peek around the brick wall to see if there was a trick door/pencil-thin hallway where my room was hiding. And when I say I looked for it, I actually mean that I tried with all of my might to will it into existence because I could. not. fathom. walking all the way back to the lobby with my small village of luggage in tow.
So I sat down right in the middle of the hallway, googled the hotel’s number, and called the front desk.
“Hi. I just checked in downstairs. I’m the one with too much stuff. My room key says Room 464, but there is no Room 464.”
“Yes, there is,” he responded, probably checking off a tally for Dumb Customer of the Day.
“Ok. If it exists, then where is it?!” I was just waiting to have him come up and check out the brick wall I was starring at. Just you wait and see, front desk, just you wait!
“When you got off the elevator, after the first turn, did you turn right or left at the second turn?”
“I don’t remember, that was 87 turns ago,” I said.
“464 is down there on the other side. You just made a wrong turn.”
Which should really surprise no one. My directional capacity is about the same as my ability to pack lightly.
So I loaded up once more and hit the trail…only to find that there really was a Room 464, and I really did miss it right where he said I did.
And then I laughed until I cried because I had actually just called the front desk to tell them my room didn’t exist.
Winner, Party of One.