I have just proved I am not swanky enough to stay in swanky hotels because no matter where I am, my jackass-y-ness comes out. So, there.

November 5, 2013 in Me and My Public Self

Here’s a surprise:  I’m travelling for work.


But for the last time for a few months.  I’m pooped now, but will be ready to swing back in high gear in January when it all starts up again.

(I know.  You don’t care.)


If you drag around with me on Facebook, you’ve already seen this.

(You’d think I’d think long enough to keep my trap shut on Facebook when  something might make a good blog post…but no.)

(See?  I keep very little, if anything from you.)


Last gig away from the office.

I pull up to the hotel and of course, I have to pee.  Which can only mean one thing:  Valet parking, baby.

Before my car is in park, my door swings open and this cute little sweet girl with a giant smile welcomes me to the hotel and immediately there is a bellman dude with a cart at her side.

Both are all teeth.  Just looking at me.

I thank them for the door and reach over to the passenger side to grab my purse that’s in the seat.  And as I get out of the car, the damn 92 foot purse strap gets hung on the gear shifter thing.

(Of course it does.)

I wrangle with that, get it loose, put on my jacket, and smile back.

Gracefully.  I think. 

(Or as graceful as I could be slinging on a jacket with the wind blowing 72 miles per hour and my purse flinging around and getting hung up in my jacket sleeve and my hair in my face then out of my face then in my face then out of my face.) 

She takes my name for the valet car parking thing, and from then on, I am now known as:  Mrs. Kinnard.

“Mrs. Kinnard, may we take your bags for you?”

“Mrs. Kinnard, would you like me to walk you to the registration desk?”

“Mrs. Kinnard, how about a bottle of water?”

“Mrs. Kinnard, would you allow me to rub your feet?”

(OK, that last one maybe didn’t happen.  Maybe.)

To get out of the damn wind, I stumble into the front doors of the hotel and follow Miss Cute Little Sweet Girl with the Giant Smile who is leading me to the registration desk.

I trip.

Yes.  I tripped.

(I still have to pee.)

Again, gracefully because I caught myself before my teeth hit the carpet and just kept on cruising.

(Don’t worry…I didn’t embarrass you.  Nobody saw.  That I know of.)

I’m now at the registration desk and it’s:

“Mrs. Kinnard, would you like one room key or two?”

“Mrs. Kinnard, let me call Waymon to get your bags to your room.”

“Mrs. Kinnard, if there’s anything not satisfactory about your room, please call 2900 immediately and we’ll take care of it.”

I declined Waymon’s services.

(Whoa.  That kinda doesn’t sound like what I mean but you know what I mean.  Right?)

(I still have to pee.)


I get my little room key card thing and find my room number and, hillbilly here didn’t realize they put a “1” in front of the 3-digit room number.  Because let’s just say my room number is 1178.  I’d take that as being on the 11th floor, right?


So, I go to the elevators and one immediately opens.

(See?  Swanky whether coincidence or not.)

I step in the elevator and the door closes.  There is no 11th floor button.  And now I can’t get out.  It ain’t moving.  I push the “Open Door” button, but nothing.

(I still have to pee.)

I push it again.  Nothing.  Again.  Nothing.  Again three times as if that’s gonna do it.  Nothing.

Then I see I have to stick my room key card thing in the little slot to make anything in the elevator work.

(Of course, I do.)

I get out and there’s Waymon:  “Mrs. Kinnard, how is everything?”

Me still having to pee:  “It’s great thank you…but where’s the elevators to the 11th floor?”

Waymon:  “Oh, there’s no 11th floor.  The first number of your room is the floor you’re on.”

Me still having to pee:  “Ahh…gotcha.  Thanks!”

I get back in the elevator and hit floor one.  Nothing.  No movement.  I dig around and find my room key card thing, jam it in the slot and up we go.  The doors open and what do you know?  It’s the outside upper balcony patio thing and I’m looking at the pool.


I get back in the friggin’ elevator, hit “lobby” and go back down.  The doors open and some random dude is standing there in a red jacket that looked hotel-employee-ish so I just blurt out, “SIR, CAN YOU PLEASE TELL ME WHERE MY ROOM IS BECAUSE I LOOK LIKE A MESS, I’VE BEEN IN THE CAR FOR FOUR HOURS AND I WENT UP TO THE POOL AND I DON’T WANT THE POOL AND JUST PLEASE HELP ME!  FOR THE LOVE OF GOD…HELP ME!”

I showed him my room key card thing, and he chuckled.

The bastard chuckled.

(I still have to pee.)

“Ma’am.  If you’ll go back up to the first floor, exit the elevator and you’ll see the pool.  Turn right and go through the glass doors.  Your room will be down the corridor to the left.”

(Corridor??  WTF is a corridor??)

(Is that some fancy ass word for something I don’t know of in swanky hotels?)

(Somebody tell Keith he needs to take me to swanky hotels so I’ll know how to act and I’ll know all their code words for things I don’t know.)

I go back in the friggin’ elevator, hit (and I do mean HIT) the first floor button, curse out loud while digging for my “fucking damn stupid card thing” to stick in the slot.  I take his directions and after I turned down the left corridor (Ehem…the hallway.  Why not just call it a damn hallway??), I started running.

I ran.  In 4″ heels.  I ran.  With luggage jumbling around behind me.  I ran.  With my purse sliding down my arm and starting to drag the floor.  I ran.

There’s my damn room.

And I miraculously still have the room key card thing in my hand so I jam it in the door slot and the door opens and the room is cold which is great because I am now sweating and my feet hurt and I wish I would have taken that bottle of water Miss Cute Little Sweet Girl with the Giant Smile offered and WELL, CRAP!

I can’t type anymore because:


kk November 5, 2013 at 5:14 pm

Been there. Done that. Why DOES the hired help act all fancy and stuff when you know they are going right back home and act like the rest of us. I guaren-damn-tee you they DON’T have corridors or “for-yays” where they’re from…just sayin’.
You always put life in perspective for us. Thanks for that and for puttin’ it out there.

Carrie November 5, 2013 at 5:23 pm

Well, let me tell you…they intimidate me enough to make me act like I know what I’m doing. I start using all those manners momma used to ground me for NOT using!

Perspective is everything. I’ll take that from you as a giant compliment. Thank you. =)

Hanna Elizabeth November 5, 2013 at 5:31 pm

I hate to tell you this (not really), but you do realize that those swanky hotels have security cameras in the elevators AND in the hallways (notice I called it a hallway, so as not to confuse you), right?! I’m pretty sure “Miss Cute Little Sweet Girl’s” boss is probably laughing it up right about now. 😀

Carrie November 5, 2013 at 6:36 pm

Well, hell.

Never thought of that.

Oh, well. Laughter IS the best medicine! Especially if I don’t ever have to see them again.

(And thank you for that hallway reference. You’re speaking my language now. =)

Barbara November 5, 2013 at 8:10 pm

Hahahahhahaha! You would be fun to travel with….after you had a chance to pee.
Barbara recently posted..A Big WeekMy Profile

Carrie November 5, 2013 at 8:43 pm

Yes. Pee first. Always.

(BTW…I couldn’t comment on your blog, but you have a fun week in store!! Congrats on your 17th anniversary and also that precious baby girl turning 5! What a fun week ahead!)

Alison November 6, 2013 at 3:10 am

That hotel room number is totally deceiving!
We call it corridor in Malaysia. And we’re not at all swanky, heh.
Alison recently posted..Wordless Wednesday: Capturing the CoolMy Profile

Carrie November 6, 2013 at 6:18 pm

Believe me, I got turned around because of that funky room number more than once.

In Malaysia, really? I’m kinda liking the new-word-to-me. I’m thinking of throwing the fam off and referring to our hallway as the corridor just to see their reaction.

Katy @ Experienced Bad Mom November 6, 2013 at 8:09 am

A have-to-pee saga! Glad everything worked out in the end. If it was so swanky they should have carried you to your room waving fans on your face!
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Carrie November 6, 2013 at 6:20 pm


Apparently, I still don’t know what swanky is! However, I will run that word in the ground. Right along with ‘corridor’.


(Thank you for dropping by, too…I’m flattered!!)

Lisa Hewitt November 7, 2013 at 4:22 am

I hope, by now, you have found the swanky bathroom. BTW – My new coffee pot was full of tea this morning – at 4:21am. This would not have happened at a swanky hotel.

Carrie November 8, 2013 at 10:20 am

Yes. I have since found the bathroom. Many times. =)

4:21 am? Whoa. Are you saying you were UP at that time? Dear heavens…

Mama and the City November 7, 2013 at 3:49 pm

Hilarious! and, didn’t they have a washroom by the lobby? Take care of business #1 and then figure out other details? LOL Next time, you ask for that. Next time.
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Carrie November 8, 2013 at 10:22 am

Oh, I am sure they had one in the lobby. I was just too busy-body-ishing around to stop and look.

I always try to go that extra mile and when I do…I always wish I would have just stopped before it.

(SO thrilled you stopped by, too!! Lucky me!)

northierthanthou November 17, 2013 at 9:20 pm

Lol, I really do hope you have resolved matters at this point. Well written!
northierthanthou recently posted..A Bullet Point MindMy Profile

Carrie November 19, 2013 at 9:14 am

I’m not sure I “ever” have all of my matters resolved!! HA!

Thanks for stopping by!! =)

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