By the Time I Get to Phoenix....

I am not supposed to be in Phoenix.  I am supposed to be home.

But….

When my husband I and returned from 18 days in Europe on Monday evening, we learned that areas east of the Great Lakes were getting hammered with lake effect snow.  We had planned to stay in a hotel in Philadelphia Monday night, and on Tuesday, Bill was to fly to Phoenix for a trade show, and I was to return home. When I checked my flight status, I learned it was cancelled.  The weather forecast didn’t offer much encouragement that flights would be going in my direction any time soon.

Decisions…decisions….stay by myself in a Philadelphia hotel waiting for the weather to break at home or try to get on a flight to Phoenix?  No brainer….but there is where the complications began.

When we approached USAir about getting me on the same flight to Phoenix with my husband, the agent was downright snotty….no way, it could not be done.  My husband expressed exasperation, “What do you mean you can’t do it?  If there are seats available, of course, you can do it!”  Then we figured out that she was assuming we were trying to get a free ticket to Phoenix, which was not our intent.  Once we assured her that we intended to pay for the ticket, she quickly determined there were seats available on all of his flights and was even accommodating about trying to find a way to reduce the cost.  In the end, it didn’t cost much more than it would have cost for me to be in the hotel room for three days.

It was a bit of a jolt to deal with USAir personnel after traveling on British Airways.  When compared to British Air, the USAir folks are downright surly.

In any event…off to Phoenix I went, thinking about the next issue.  We had packed for my husband figuring on the extra days in Phoenix after the European trip, but of course, I hadn’t planned on that, so I had a suitcase full of dirty clothes, and not much left to wear.  I figured that when we arrived at the hotel, I would send a few items of clothing to the laundry service.

By the time we got to Phoenix, we were exhausted…..we had crossed eight time zones since leaving Europe.  We were hungry.   We desperately wanted a bit of food and a bed.  My husband had been told there was no reason to rent a car, as there would be a shuttle to the hotel downtown near the convention center.  Uh…whoops..wrong….no shuttle!  So, we got a taxi.

We arrived at the downtown Sheraton, thinking we had reached our journey’s end.  But wait…..the hotel had overbooked and needed to send us elsewhere for just one night.   They were unclear about the location of the Arizona Grand, and we assumed it was close by, since Bill needed to be at the convention center at 10 the next morning.  The desk clerk said that the bellhops would take care of our luggage, and she was going to “walk us over there.”  But, what she meant was that she was walking us to a waiting car.  We got in the car, still assuming we were only going a couple of blocks.  Pretty soon we were on the freeway heading south….and south…and further south.  We went past the airport at which we had just recently arrived.  I wondered aloud if we were heading to Mexico. My normally calm husband was becoming agitated…..how was he supposed to get back to the convention center?  The Sheraton had given him a voucher for his ride back, but he was worried about what would happen to me.  They were supposed to have a room available the next day, but what time would it be available?  Was I going to be stranded in the lobby for hours waiting for a room?

The Arizona Grand is a gorgeous place, but it was hard to appreciate it given that on check-in, we were still tired and hungry, and I didn’t have clean clothes. I couldn’t send anything to their laundry service, because I wasn’t going to be there the next day to receive it back. 

The Arizona Grand is so spread out that you can’t get anywhere without calling for a golf cart to take you.  Fortunately, the young men who tool around on these golf carts are very considerate and accommodating….and yes, they said, there is a laundry facility available for me.  We came up with the plan that I would sort out what I needed to wash.  The golf cart would take me to the laundry.  Bill would go on the golf cart transport to one of the restaurants on the premises and get take-out to bring back to the laundry.

This may not seem like a big deal, but remember, we are totally exhausted at this point.  We arrive at the “laundry” and discover it is just a washer and dryer in a hallway….no detergent dispenser, no change machine at which to get the necessary quarters, no table or chairs to sit down while we eat.  The nice young guy driving the golf cart was determined to solve these issues for us.  He made a phone call and found that the front desk could sell us some detergent and of course, make change for us.   So, off we go to the front desk and back.  After making sure I was settled in the laundry, he took Bill to one of the restaurants for food, and then ushered us to a lounge area near the laundry where we could eat.

Much relieved, we ate hamburgers large enough to feed a family of four in a third world country and waited for the washing and drying process to be completed.  When it was done, we called the golf cart guy and he returned us to our “villa.”

We had a restful night’s sleep.  In the morning, Bill called the Sheraton to see when a room would be available.  He made it clear that he was unhappy about the notion of leaving his wife stranded with nowhere to go while he went off to the convention center.  I assured him that I would be fine.  I was sure the hotel would put our suitcases someplace safe, and I was sure I could entertain myself somehow…..shopping, perhaps?

We called the bellhop to arrange our transportation back to the Sheraton.  He said that he actually had a car sitting there waiting.  They loaded us into the car, but before we were out the driveway, we discovered the driver had no knowledge of our transportation voucher, so back to the Arizona Grand we went.  We had to wait about 20 minutes, while the bellhop got in touch with the correct transportation company.  Meanwhile one of those nice young golf cart guys got each of us a cup of coffee.

Eventually we arrived back at the downtown Sheraton which actually had a room ready for us….a very nice room on the 22^nd floor.  I can see all the way to the airport from our window.  The mountains surrounding are beautiful, and all is well.  Between the clothes I washed at the Arizona Grand and a couple of things I purchased at the store across the street, I have adequate clean clothing.

I even contacted a good friend and former co-worker, who lives in Phoenix now.  She got off work early in order to come and see me.  We had a great visit at the local Starbucks.

By the time I got to Phoenix, I was exhausted and felt like Murphy’s Law had been operating in my life …..but I’m fine now, and appreciative of the people who went out of their way to be helpful in fighting off Murphy.