Did I ever tell you about the time…

This is a story from my normal rotation. It is from a work trip to LA.  I was able to tell it to the ladies at dinner on Wednesday night.  We were all laughing and having a great time, so the timing could have been what offset the humor of the story.  Someone asked Norma, my room mate for the training, how crazy was it to room with me.  She said fine…I  interrupted and said how well I had been behaving all week. (And really I was trying to calm it down for her, she was quiet).  She agreed, but then said that she would rather not room with someone who laughs at themselves while in the bathroom.  Of course this brought out a couple of giggles and some questioning faces. So anyone who knows me knows that I have to defend my character and explain… 

It started because on Monday night when we got to the hotel, they said that they did not have any rooms with two bed left.  We had just met each other and were very tired.  We did not want to share a bed, that night or actually any nights for that matter. So we said that would not work and after a lot of typing he found a room on “floor 2”.  Thats what he kept sayng “floor 2”, “floor 2” and kept asking if that was ok. How I am supost to know, he is the one that works there. So, we in return would ask “why, what was special about floor 2?“.  After too many exchanges on this matter he finally told us that floor 2 was the Smoking Floor.  So we had a decision to make, smoking room or a pull out bed. 

We said that we would try the smoking floor…We get off the elevator and enter the thick smell of set-in tobacco smoke.  Me, being the optimist, said “We should go into the room first it will be better.”…I mean he did say that they clean the room very well after each guest…. Well we open the door and I was surprised that the room itself was not filled with smoke. As I entered the room I wasn’t sure if I needed to get on my hands and knees and calmly seek the nearest unblocked exit. People, it was pretty bad.  So we hadn’t even set our bags down when Norma started to sneeze.  I then said “Well this isnt going to work, I’m patient we’ll get this changed.” 

So down the stairs we went and to my great relief there was another at the counter.  She looked like she just might be able to help.  So Norma went to call her hubby and watched from afar.  I told the lady what had happened.  She, after typing for an exgaurated time period, said that there was a Handicap room on the third floor, and asked “Is that was alright?”  Again, how I am to know if that would be alright. Is that some sort of training response, like when you say “Thank You” at Chick fil a they have to say “My Pleasure”. I figured it would be alright, but asked her what was the difference.  She said that there were only a few differences but mainly there were more rails and some assistant items to assit the disabled.  I took it, that was easy. But while she was typing and doing what she had to do, I was still talking and moving my arms around. Of course, I wanted Norma to think that I was working hard to get us an upgrade. 

Well, we journeyed to our new room and I was a little worried, remember at this point I didnt know what training was going to be like and would have rather been at home.  Some of you know me and how my mind can get carried away.  I had envisioned the room and had the idea that the beds were the ones that tilt to meet you. That the walls would be covered by bars and everything would be lowered. 

The door opened and I cautiously walked in to find that it was normal.  Where were the wheel chair tracks?  OH and the smell, heavenly. Well as good as a hotel room can smell.  The only place that you could tell that the room was for the handicapped was in the bathroom. All along the walls and the bathtubs there were ton of rails and handlebars. It was crazy how many different angles and different placements these bars were.

Now at this point you may be wondering what the point of this story was or is.  Calm down I am getting there. Ok, so the room was nice and great. We had many laughs about the room mixups and I even made Norma go outside and ring the special doorbell so I would know what it did. If you are curious then I will let you know… the lights flashes and the ring was more of a pulsing tone.

Nothing special had happened until Wendesday morning when I was taking a shower.  As I went to get out I slipped,  time slowed down, but my mind raced…I just knew that I would be lying on the ground, dripping, naked-as-a-jaybird and unconscious. But in the moment I reached out and what did I find… You guessed it…   Handicap Rails!  I would have fallen if it weren’t for those beautiful handles that were in perfect spot.  As I grabbed the bar I thought  “Thank goodness for handicap rails”. And the truth is if it wasn’t for those rails, then I myself might have become handicapped!!!  As these thoughts went through my head, I found the humor and started laughing.  But I thought no more of this til later that night, when in front of everyone, my roommate calls me out!! She never said anything that morning. Why would someone so sweet do that to me?

That is one of my favorite travel stories but I have more where that came from. Including one from the same trip. It’s called Zig and Zag. Keep a look out. Who but me names their own stories?!