reesesWeb

So I have my new least-favorite hotel. We came to check in this morning, and waited a heck of a long time in line. They only had one guy at the check-in desk, and people were checking out, checking in, getting bills changed, and who knows what else. Probably managing a destination-routed wire funds transfer from the First Federal Bank of Bratislava.

Think that's it? Oh no.

We went to get the car. We decided to call ahead so the valet would have it ready. About ten minutes later, we went down to the front door. No car. No big deal, they said to expect it to take fifteen minutes.

Thirty minutes, we ask the guy standing in front of the hotel, the valet coordinator, who has no inkling that our car was due out. He takes the ticket, gives it to some dorky looking guy, and tells him that we've been waiting for half an hour, and to get our car next.

Dorky shows up ten minutes later, driving another car. He goes off, and finally, another valet comes up, driving our car.

Fifty minutes from phone call to parking my tush in the car. We blew an apartment viewing (I called ahead), and got ourselves a bit peeved.

If this were a motel six or something, hey, I could understand. After all, they don't claim to be luxurious or to pamper guests. I tell you, they may not be maintaining their rooms for poop, but W has it all over the Clift when it comes to brown-nosing guests. I just wish the rooms didn't look as if they'd been filled with used furniture from a yard sale.

On the good side, we drove to the 2pm loft viewing appointment, and woosh. The people were fantastic, the place was great, and vibes were good all around. We tried going to the next appointment, because it was nearby, but the person flaked, so we left, and cancelled the rest of our appointments. Kat hasn't been here much before (the last time was with me, a few years ago), so I drove her around a few of the different neighborhoods, so she could get a mental image of Nob Hill, Cow Hollow, the Marina, the Mission, etc.

We get back to the hotel, and of course, valet flake strikes again. We gave them the car, but they didn't give us a card. When we asked for one, they just said,"Remember XXXXX." 'XXXXX' being a five digit number. Write it down for us? What do you think.

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