Going North, Part I: 207

So we are checked in at the Marriott Residence Inn and Suites in Exton. We were expecting a suite with two rooms and three beds, but apparently they have no such arrangement and we get a suite with two rooms and TWO beds. Five people. You do the math. "Oh, we'll be fine," we say naively. By this time, it's late, almost 11 p.m. My genius husband Dan stupidly leaves me all alone with Ed Buckner, Israel and Palestine. Granted, he has to go get some Diet Cokes and Diet Dr. Peppers, because for either of us to wake up in the morning out of this stupor, we MUST have said Diet Coke and Diet Dr. Pepper within arm's reach. Buhhhhhht still.

I digress. My apologies. In the Suburban we had so much luggage that some of it actually fell on Cole's head. He cried, and mayhem ensued. In our efforts to placate the people, we bribed them with the promise of going swimmimg at the hotel. As an aside, and for your future reference, that wouldn't have even come close for me. "Oh, I get to go SWIMMING??!?!?! YOU MEAN AS A REWARD I GET TO PUT ON A BATHING SUIT, WEAR IT IN PUBLIC, IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE?? AND JUMP INTO THE WATER!! WOW!! NOTHING MAKES ME HAPPIER!!!" No way pal. But for these people, it's like I'm handing out million dollar bills deep-fried with powdered sugar on it.


Dan's gone, and I'm rifling through bags for swimsuits, or anything resembling swimwear. Apparently before Dan left and while I ran back out to the vehicle for something, a woman in room 207 - right below us - actually called our room and complained to Dan about the noise. There was some discussion about three kids, a dog, traveling all day, we're relocating, we'll try to hold it down, blah, blah, blah. Dan told me this as he's escaping out the door. The people are so exhausted, the dog is - well, you can imagine. Let's just say she is beyond anything that might be considered normal. It's all we can do to keep her from shredding the furniture.


Promises are promises, and we are sooo grateful to be out of a vehicle (plane, shuttle or car), and we are trying to make things easier for Mr. Buckner, and his middle-eastern counterparts Israel and Palestine. I'm digging for swimwear, and Cole opens and reopens the door at least 45 times. Naturally, Lily escapes. She runs like her life depends on it. Think about this for a second - if you had four legs two inches long each, you, too, could outrun the Amtrak. I know you believe me when I say this wasn't my shiniest moment. I wasn't totally cognizant of our surroundings, let alone any consequences of my actions at that moment. Annnnd so I speak very loudly to Cole about letting the dog out. 207 did not like it. 207 called the front desk this time, who called me. When the little weasel on the other end of the phone told me why he was calling, I felt my carotid artery pulsating, and temporarily wondered if a stroke would bring me any permanent -ok, any - relief from this exciting adventure. It seemed like an eternity, but I managed to keep from reaching through the phone and choking the very life out of the poor schmuck. I mean, he IS just doing his job. I tell him - and I'm paraphrasing here - we would be most happy to do everything in our power to quiet down and please accept my deepest apologies for any disturbances. Well, that's how I prefer to remember the conversation. I think it went something like that, anyway.
After I gently placed the telephone in the receiver, I calmly discussed with the people the importance of being quiet as church mice. They immediately indicated their agreement, and all was well in the kingdom again.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! That WAS entertaining, wasn't it! It reads better that way, and makes me feel better. 'Sides, I'm writin' this here story!!!!!!!!!

We make it out the door on the way to the heaven-forsaking pool, which is indoors. Ordinarily, I don't know how these things go, since I don't spend a lot of time at indoor pools, but it seems logical to expect a little chlorine smell. This particular pool was a little on the strong side, I think. There was enough chlorine in that room to choke all of southeastern Pennsylvania. I didn't have my swimsuit on, as I had no intentions of doing so anyway, plus I had the beast with me. So I couldn't do anything but sit there and SWEAT. Once again, my rules-oriented child immediately noticed the rules posted in an obscure corner in 4-pt font that said pets are not allowed in the pool area. Are you freaking kidding me. I told Jack if someone wanted to, they could come talk to me about it, but I wasn't worried about it (please, I would love for someone to approach me about this issue right now). I let them splash around for - and yes, I was watching the clock - five minutes and then said, "Alright!! FIVE MINUTE WARNING PEOPLE!"

They knew I wasn't kidding. A couple minutes later: "Alright people! Two minutes!" And in exactly two minutes I made them get out. We trudge up to the room, and Dan was thankfully back by then. I told him how much fun we had had by then, and well - the rest is a blur. Somehow we got them into pajamas, or at least out of swimsuits, and we all collapsed into beds.

I am going to skip ahead a little here. I will definitely blog about our first full day in Pennsylvania, especially seeing as how it was Katie's sixth birthday, but right now it's important to get out the story about 207. We are skipping ahead to Wednesday morning, our second full day here, and it's about 11 a.m. There is a knock on the door. Dan and I exchange glances, as neither of us have called downstairs for anything.

Dan opens the door, and from behind him I can tell by the way he changes his stance it wasn't the welcome wagon at the door. He picks up the beast and turns to ask me to hold her, and I grab her and go to the door. There is a "manager" at the door. This guy was about 25 at most, terribly out of shape (which is not bad, mind you, I'm just trying to paint the whole picture for you) and is a little sloppy in his appearance despite what is sure to be his best efforts to tuck in his Marriott shirt, terrible posture (thank you, Mother, for teaching me to hold my shoulders back), and - this is one of my pet peeves from my speech/oratory/I'm-in-court-speaking-in-front-of-people-all-the-time-days - he is rocking back and forth on his heels. Stand still man!! You're not in kindergarten in the school play!!!!!!!!

All I hear is something about too much noise, complaints, and moving. Dan says, "Is this the same woman in room 207 making these complaints?" He just turns red and rocks back and forth a little faster. I said, "It's the middle of the day!" It is important that you understand here that of all times, the kids were pretty good this particular morning, and even the beast was fairly calm. There were no barking/yelping fits, no major disciplinary problems, just three kids excited and doing a pretty good job of waiting on Mom and Dad to get ready. Dan says we're leaving, and I agree. Kid doesn't respond, but he's still rocking. Dan just walks out in the hall, and as he closed the door says, "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Yikes.

I actually feel good at this point. Usually, I might try to pull him back, tell him to calm down, but right now, I'm feeling pretty good about what he might do. It's sort of freeing, actually. We ARE going to leave this hotel, and I don't care what Dan says to them. When you know you haven't done anything wrong, there's nothing to fear.

He comes back with the luggage carrier thing. He said they offered to move us to another suite, and he told them maybe 207 should be moved. Further, that we hear people moving around us, but don't complain, and there have been no complaints from either side of us, or even below us. Dan asked me what I wanted to do. I told him there was no way this side of Heaven were we staying in this hotel, and I didn't care if we had to all sleep in the car, but we were leaving.

I packed in record time. Probably a bad thing, since now Dan knows I can do that, but it's a price I'll have to pay. We got packed, and as we were walking out I told Dan I had to stop by the office as I had a few words I wanted to share with the "managers." He begged me not to. I promised to be calm. This is my strong point after all - cross examination and the-like.

I walk into the officer where rocker-boy and a young blonde skinny woman are actually laughing and having a snack. Just another day at the office I guess. I told them who I was, and that I had something to say. I want to interject here that the whole time I giving my little speech, Blondie is nodding and constantly saying "I understand I understand I understand I understand I understand." It's actually a nice technique for disarming your enemy or someone cross-examining you on the stand as it is extremely annoying. I reeeeally had trouble not screaming at her to shut the frig up and let me finish you stupid little twig!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Just keep that in mind as you read the next part...
So I told Blondie and Rocker-boy that I am extremely disappointed in their "management," and that in the middle of the day there's going to be a little noise, but this morning of all times there was no excessive noise, and that maybe, just maybe, they should move 207 instead of displacing a family of five WHO by the way, I have uprooted from anything they've ever known to move us all up here, and we were planning on staying at this hotel at least two weeks. Blondie quit saying "I understand" and replaced it with "She's actually been here a few months." Which made ME SAY, "I don't care. She's not anymore a guest than we are, and I don' t know what her issues are, nor do I care, but she cannot have that much an expectation of quiet and privacy in a HOTEL in the middle of the DAY." I further said, "Let me tell you what I'm going to do. My husband works for Endo Pharmaceuticals (10-15 miles from here), and they were putting us up in this hotel. I'm going to write Endo corporate, as well as Marriott corporate, and describe your management to them and how we've been treated, and recommend that they do not send any more of their employees to your hotel. Further, I'm going to tell everyone I know to not stay in a Marriott, and we'll never stay in a Marriott again. That may not be much, but that's all I can do." Blondie is still nodding - how can her stupid little head not pop off I don't know - and still saying she understands!!!!!!! I just turned and walked off. By the time I was through, I was shaking and sweating, and my heart was about to pound out of my chest. But I felt good.

We got in the car, and didn't have to say one word to each other to know we had handled it pretty well, and at least we were on the same page about that. We did, however, have to explain to the people why were leaving. It involved something like a rude woman kept complaining, and it's better that we just leave. Why did she complain so much? Well, some people just don't know any better, that's why. And with that, we left our first "place" in Pennsylvania. Heaven help us.