The morning after. If you think about our first impression things can only get better. Lets see.
It is Saturday. The receptionist had informed us the night before that we should call the reception the next morning - so to speak now - to register for rooms with a king bed that might become available. In good spirits - I'm not going to let this spoil my mood - I reach for the telephone and press the button that connects me to the reception. To no avail. No ringing tone, no ringing, no nothing. I hang up. Change of tactics: I press the button first. I let the handset rest on the receiver. It rings - yeah! I pick up the phone. No ringing tone, no ringing, no nothing. Are you trying to make fun of me? All good things come in threes, as we all know. So: The handset stays on. Button is pressed. It rings. Handset is picked up. Ringing stops.
Slightly annoyed, I decide to go directly to the reception. Surely they can help me there. That already worked out so well yesterday. The queue of people standing in front of the reception desk has not shrunk noticeably overnight. I have the thought that maybe people are paid to just stand here so that it always looks crowded. After all, the USA is the land of unlimited ... never mind, I'll just wait.
And the wait is worth it! While I stand with a decreasing mood between overweight people, two people check out at one of the self-check-out machines. The man comes up to me and says they still have two 4-day tickets for the monorail. They had only missed 2 days. So the tickets are still valid. He thinks it is nonsense to throw them away and asks if I don't want them. I am not an inhuman and accept the tickets with growing joy and confidence. Admittedly, my mood rises. Gifts always bring joy.
Oh, it is my turn. Great!
The lady of today is minimally less unfriendly than the lady of yesterday. Not only are we in a natural desert here, ladies and gentlemen, but the service is also slightly withered so far (which is not an allusion to the age of said receptionists). I explain the situation to receptionist number two and silently count the number of times she shakes her head in incomprehension: 15. The result of our little tête-à-tête: She can't do anything here at the reception, I have to call the reception from the room. Admittedly, the logic of the statement doesn't make sense to me, and I'm afraid that the woman will lose her bobblehead and I'll lose my mind if I explain to her that that's exactly what I was trying to do. So I bow to the superiority of the rip-off and pull away.
In the room, we try it one last time. New variant: Leave the handset on-hook, press the button and don't pick up the handset, but simply yell at the phone. This is successful in the sense that you can at least communicate with someone. That someone then tells you to please come to the front desk, where you would be moved to a new room without a problem. At this moment, my brain implodes.
Withou thinking anything ... how could I with my brain imploded ... I follow Rico to the reception, in front of which the seemingly identical queue of people lurks. I hold on to the day tickets of the monorail, so as not to slide into madness: There is still good in this city - but that checked out earlier.
Instead of joining the queue, however, the hero of the hours rushes to the express check-in/check-out counter and explains the situation. A person who is almost unpleasantly friendly compared to the others takes care of the matter. She understands her job, apologizes for the trouble and makes us feel taken seriously. In the end, she rebooked us into a room in the Chrysler Building, floor 34. She also tells us that we can use our key cards to get a 2-for-1-breakfast in the restaurant between 7 and 11 am. Means: You get a meal for free. Gifts, again! I like that.
And when we both then enjoy extraordinarily delicious Eggs Benedict, the anger of the previous day is forgotten and the anticipation of what is to come is great. Las Vegas, here we come!
