If You Can't Beat'em, Join'em

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Swan Bells In Action

As our days in Oz quickly drew to an end, Gene and I checked into our 19th century hotel located in Perth’s central business district. Glad that reception allowed an early check-in, Gene and I paraded up the stairs to our 2nd floor room, looking forward to a little R&R before setting out to explore the city.

We exchanged the usual nod of “not bad for the price” as we opened the door and ventured inside. Hoping to let in a little sunshine, Gene drew back the curtain only to find a gigantic mirror topped by a small sealed window just below the ceiling. Curious as to what was situated on the opposite side of the window, he crawled up onto a chair and announced that there were two employees setting up tables in what appeared to be a conference room. To our own amusement, we joked about sticking our bare asses up against the window during the scheduled conference.

Nearing 4 ½ weeks in Australia, we were in desperate need of a down day and agreed to grab a late lunch and save the recommended walking tour for the following day, our last full day in Australia. After stuffing our bellies, we purchased our Japan Rail Passes and headed back to our room for some serious blog time.

Like a typical Seinfeld episode, as soon as I changed into my cozy clothing and settled into bed to write my next blog entry, it sounded like the Jerry Springer Show was starting in the next room. Trying not to grow focused on the hullabaloo next door, I racked my brain for an opening paragraph. Like Chinese water torture, the noise slowly began to drive me mad.

“What on God’s earth are they doing in there?!? And what time is the damn thing going to end? It’s almost seven o’clock already!” I shouted into the dead silence of the room.

Gene, pissed that he paid $150 US for a room with no window and paper thin walls, called the front desk to request a different room. “Hello, this is Mr. Sawyer. I’m in room 121. There seems to be some kind of conference going on next door and it is disturbingly loud in our room. Do you know what time the meeting will be over?” Gene politely requested.

“Nine o’clock?!?” I heard Gene snap. “So you mean to tell me that I paid $150 per night for this room and I have to listen to a conference going on all night long? That’s simply not acceptable. Can you move us to another room?”

“Sorry, sir, but we are sold out for the night,” the receptionist informed.

“Well then I would like to be discounted on tonight’s stay if you can’t move me to another room,” Gene demanded.

After being informed that we would receive a return call once the receptionist spoke to the manager, Gene stormed downstairs to deal with matters himself. Satisfied with free breakfast for two and two nights of free parking, Gene and I brought the laptop downstairs to the pub to avoid the clapping audience outside of our room. A smoky half an hour later, we were right back upstairs in our less than peaceful room.

If you can’t beat’em, join’em.

There I was standing on a chair on my tippy-toes with my frizzy hair, pulling myself up by all ten fingers just enough so that my head would fill the window. As several eyes turned to focus on me, I stuck out my tongue, waved and vanished from their sight. I entertained myself playing impromptu peek-a-boo over the next hour. Gene and I threatened to generate loud and obscene noises if the commotion didn’t stop promptly by the promised nine o’clock deadline.

Almost disappointed to hear the riot dying down with time to spare, Gene and I retired from our blogging and decided to spend some quality time with the movie channel. As we stared at the silent screen waiting for our movie to start, I thought Gene put a quarter into a slot machine beside our bed as the mattress began vibrating to the rock concert music coming from the first floor.

You’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me!#@$%!<(MISSING)/i>

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Comments

[Debbie]

That is so not funny...
The room situation - what a nightmare - I'm glad you had fun with it though. Love the pics of you w/roo's - so telling!