I was in Houston the first part of last week training on some software that some of our customers use to access data. I was told I was going less than a week prior, and while that isn’t a big deal for me, it means I needed to hurredly find somewhere to stay and transportation and such. My boss suggested a place to stay a couple of blocks from the office, since I didn’t get a rental car or anything. “You’ll be fine on the Super Shuttle”, they said.
So I made reservations all around, and Monday evening found me on a plane to Houston. I got in around 8:30 local time, and was on the super shuttle by 9. This is where it starts getting sketchy.
Pause. You need to know something about me. I spend most of my free-brain time thinking about how to react in social situations and what to do if something crazy happens, like if aliens invade with long pointy sticks and a lot of green goo.
Moving on. I waited for a while for the super shuttle. Thoughts going through my head: What if they find out I am single and by myself here? Also I'm not that old or strong. No one is expecting me until the next morning, and even then they will probably assume that I just decided not to come if something happened to me. So I had a whole series of stories so that if the strange man driving the super shuttle asked me questions, he wouldn't find out any of this. "I was visiting my sister and my brother in law (who is, coincidentally, a body builder), and they are expecting me to call as soon as I get in. Yeah, Billy is the all Texas champ for squats, you should see their kids, they are beasts". "I am meeting several friends, all of whom are actually karate champions, and we are going out as soon as I get in". Even though it was monday. The stories continue.
After one of THE most terrifying rides of my life, in which we hurtled through downtown Houston in a giant blue van. Somehow, I made it alive to my hotel, where I checked in and went to my room. Which was really sketchy. As in, these are not my pubes on the bathroom floor sketchy. As in, I had to clean the coffee pot out before using it.
Fact About Cori #2: When we went on road trips with my dad and stayed in hotels, he always jokingly told us to check for bodies under the beds and in the closets. We always went along with it.
This hotel was soooo sketchy that I refused to look for bodies, because I was legitimately scared of what I might find.
So, I got ready for bed and fell asleep to the sound of the neighbors above me "stomping" around (here is where I covered my ears and went LALALALALALA). Then I woke up the the upstairs neighbor "stomping" again... they sure were awake early for how late they were up.
I walked to my meeting, had a decent day, and had dinner with one of my coworkers, Art. He dropped me off at my, as he sarcastically called it, "Swanky, uptown resort and spa".
I should note now that there was no shampoo provided at my swanky locale. So the first morning, I washed my hair with facewash. Note: This doesn't work. Also it is weird when you find little orange scrubby things in your hair during software training.
After dinner I went to the front desk to ask for some shampoo. They didn't have any. The following is the discussion I had with the sweet young woman at the front desk.
Me: Is there anywhere nearby I could walk to to get shampoo?
Her: Uhhhhh..... you want to walk?
Me: yes.
Her: You can't drive?
Me: no.
Her: Are you ssure you want to walk?
Me: yes.
Her: Well, alright then.....
She gave me directions to the nearest walgreens, and it took my about half an hour to walk there, get shampoo and conditioner, and walk back. Good grief, people.
I spent the rest of the evening lying on the bed with sheets I refused to inspect and watched tv, listened for people trying to break in, and making escape plans in case they did. I didn't sleep well.
Thankfully, the rest of the meeting went well and I had a very nice cab driver to the airport. I made it home alive and safe.
Next time, I am taking someone burly with me, or I am insisting on a rental car and a hotel where I can stay and not be afraid for my life.
2 comments:
The good thing about most hotels these days is that the under-the-bed region is boxed off. Maybe because they got tired of finding spare shoes, socks, or...dead bodies. I always kick the under side of the bed to make sure it is nicely enclosed before I make the effort to get down on my hands and knees to check for bodies (dead or alive). It saves a lot of time and knee pain.
I once went to a crappy hotel in some podunk Oklahoma town with mom in which I encountered large black crickets on my bed and itchy bumps when I woke up in the morning. Bed bugs?
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