A Room at the Inn

Last night, I checked into a Holiday Inn near Springfield and looked forward to sleeping late the following morning. (My first meeting was at 1:00 pm the next day and only an hour away).

The check-in person asked if I wanted a smoking or non-smoking room. I thought that was strange, thinking that smoking wasn’t allowed anywhere anymore anytime.

I requested a non-smoking room.

“Is the third floor okay?” he chirped.

“Sure,” I replied dryly.

Well, it turned out that half the third floor was smoking rooms. Within two hours, my sinuses were raw and I knew I’d better remedy the situation. I’ve learned the hard way that it’s really important to do everything one can to stay healthy on my marathon Illinois trips. That includes avoiding the discount hotels where cleanliness can be iffy.

I called the front desk and asked to be moved to a non-smoking floor.

He said there was no room in the Inn.

I went to Phase Two of my request. I told him I was really sensitive to smoke and that if I’d been told that this floor allowed smoking, I wouldn’t have checked in.

He said he didn’t have any rooms at all, so I went to Phase Three.

I asked that I not be charged for this room and that I’d check out and go elsewhere. After all, it had only been two hours.

He said he couldn’t do that. I’d be charged for the room.

So, I put my knowledge of accommodating people with disabilities to work. After all, it’s my job.

I reminded him that I was only staying one night, I’d be gone in the morning and asked if he had a wheelchair-accessible room on hand for me.

Bingo!

I figured that they would always have one or two on hand if anyone using a wheelchair showed up and I was right. (I verified that no one with a disability would be needing it).

I was very nice and polite to him all through my phases, but I was persistent. After all, there was no reason I should have to pay a hundred bucks to sleep in a nasty hotel room.

So, I had my nice, pristine, accessible room on the first floor. Yay.

Well, it turned out that the person in the room next to me had a guide dog.

A big guide dog.

A big guide dog that began freaking out at 6:30 this morning, barking and barking and barking.

Woof woof woof!. . .

. . . Woof woof woof woof!

. . . Woof woof!

. . . Woof!. . . . . woof-woof!

Then, someone set off an alarm. Since I was in an accessible room, some very bright lights began flashing in my room as well as the ear-piercing alarm beeps.

So much for sleeping late.

I walked into my wheelchair accessible shower and began my day. . . .