A Bad Night at the Inn
Many years ago, I worked as a front desk clerk at the Anniversary Inn, a beautifully themed hotel in Salt Lake City. I enjoyed my job because I like being around happy people. Usually, the guests stayed happy, but of course there were always exceptions. For example, one doomed couple came on their wedding night. Sadly, they couldn’t relax because something had gone wrong with their reservations in Jamaica. This was in the pre-cell phone years, so the poor groom spent much of his wedding night at the front desk speaking long distance to his parents and various travel agents. Later, he had to call another friend to bring his wife’s glasses, as he had just washed her contact lens down the sink. And later still, I was tracking down a 24-hour plumber because the wedding ring had also gone down the drain. But that wasn’t the worst night.
The worst night was in the 90’s during the brief time between VHS and DVD technology. Back then the ultimate first class, cool thing to have was a laserdisc. My inn had a library of laserdisc movies for guests to check out and every room had a big screen TV with a temperamental laserdisc player.
One night, an adorable couple came in. She was still wearing her wedding dress and the groom was beaming. They checked in and the groom, I’ll call him Steve, took a long look at the laserdisc list, and checked out a movie. That was a little odd, most couples had other things on their minds on their wedding night, but I gave them the movie and sent them off.
A little while later the phone rang
“Hi, this is Steve in room 23. We can’t get the TV working; can you come and take a look at it?”
I always felt awkward going to guest rooms during what was supposed to be a romantic evening, so with fingers crossed I told him to push this and that button.
Fifteen minutes passed and the phone rang again.
“I’m sorry we still can’t get the TV to work, could you come up?”
I apologized and took things to the next level, which was to tell Steve to thump the bottom left and tweak the green wire. He wasn’t too happy but agreed to try.
More time passed and I began to feel hopeful. But no luck. The phone rang again.
“Hi, this is Steve, The TV is on, but there’s no sound, I really think you should come up.”
What my mind was shouting to Steve was, “Isn’t there ANYTHING else you can possibly think of doing on your wedding night???,” What my mouth said was something like, “I’msorry you’re having so much trouble, but the sound is a very easy fix, just push this and that.” I hung up and took a deep breath.
Luck was not with me. The phone rang. “Hey, this just isn’t working, can’t you just please come up?”
Out of options, I sighed and said, “Sure, I’ll be right up.”
“Great! Thanks!”
Of course, this would be in the carriage suite where both the bed and the TV were actually inside the carriage. It’s a very cozy setup. I knocked on the door and Steve opened it smiling happily.
“Thanks for coming up!” He said chirpily, “We really appreciate it.”
I glanced over at the bride who was sitting in the bed with her arms crossed tightly in front of her. I was fairly certain that “we” were not at all happy to see me.
Steve bounced up to fiddle with the TV. There was no help for it. I slipped off my shoes and climbed the steps to get into bed with the honeymooners. I caught the bride’s eye. YIKES. Sweating and praying I pushed buttons as fast as I could. After a few minutes, or maybe a few years—I’m not sure which, both the picture and the sound came on.
I climbed over them as quickly and gracefully as I could, which is to say, not very gracefully. Steve was as profuse in his thanks as I was in my apologies. He was all smiles, not a cloud on his horizon, completely oblivious to the major storm that surely awaited him.
Thankfully, I never saw them again. I don’t know if they’re still married. I hope so, but my bet is on the couple with the drain problems.
The worst night was in the 90’s during the brief time between VHS and DVD technology. Back then the ultimate first class, cool thing to have was a laserdisc. My inn had a library of laserdisc movies for guests to check out and every room had a big screen TV with a temperamental laserdisc player.
One night, an adorable couple came in. She was still wearing her wedding dress and the groom was beaming. They checked in and the groom, I’ll call him Steve, took a long look at the laserdisc list, and checked out a movie. That was a little odd, most couples had other things on their minds on their wedding night, but I gave them the movie and sent them off.
A little while later the phone rang
“Hi, this is Steve in room 23. We can’t get the TV working; can you come and take a look at it?”
I always felt awkward going to guest rooms during what was supposed to be a romantic evening, so with fingers crossed I told him to push this and that button.
Fifteen minutes passed and the phone rang again.
“I’m sorry we still can’t get the TV to work, could you come up?”
I apologized and took things to the next level, which was to tell Steve to thump the bottom left and tweak the green wire. He wasn’t too happy but agreed to try.
More time passed and I began to feel hopeful. But no luck. The phone rang again.
“Hi, this is Steve, The TV is on, but there’s no sound, I really think you should come up.”
What my mind was shouting to Steve was, “Isn’t there ANYTHING else you can possibly think of doing on your wedding night???,” What my mouth said was something like, “I’msorry you’re having so much trouble, but the sound is a very easy fix, just push this and that.” I hung up and took a deep breath.
Luck was not with me. The phone rang. “Hey, this just isn’t working, can’t you just please come up?”
Out of options, I sighed and said, “Sure, I’ll be right up.”
“Great! Thanks!”
Of course, this would be in the carriage suite where both the bed and the TV were actually inside the carriage. It’s a very cozy setup. I knocked on the door and Steve opened it smiling happily.
“Thanks for coming up!” He said chirpily, “We really appreciate it.”
I glanced over at the bride who was sitting in the bed with her arms crossed tightly in front of her. I was fairly certain that “we” were not at all happy to see me.
Steve bounced up to fiddle with the TV. There was no help for it. I slipped off my shoes and climbed the steps to get into bed with the honeymooners. I caught the bride’s eye. YIKES. Sweating and praying I pushed buttons as fast as I could. After a few minutes, or maybe a few years—I’m not sure which, both the picture and the sound came on.
I climbed over them as quickly and gracefully as I could, which is to say, not very gracefully. Steve was as profuse in his thanks as I was in my apologies. He was all smiles, not a cloud on his horizon, completely oblivious to the major storm that surely awaited him.
Thankfully, I never saw them again. I don’t know if they’re still married. I hope so, but my bet is on the couple with the drain problems.