i wasn't excited when i heard we'd be staying at the trump in vegas. but the husband needed to be close to the convention center. and his work is paying for the stay. so no biggie. i had mild reservation only because donald trump is a bit of a conservative, obnoxious tool. but how bad could his "5 star resort hotel" be?
we arrived monday and the tv was broken. it was fixed and then it broken again, every day, in new and different ways. it was comical. and we ended up getting comped for $100 because of it. the manager was always nice about it, and i never bitched. i just called down and reported the problem. i got to know the tv repair guy and joked with him about it each day.
the bed is the worst bed i've ever slept on in any hotel. the cleaning people left a bag of garbage on our bed one day. they took our dirty kitchen wears (plates, glasses) and never brought replacements. the food is HORRIBLE. but whatever, we're here for dan's work.
the pool staff people are lovely. spending 3 days there, i got to know the waitress and then girl handing out towels. i tipped them quite a bit. i enjoyed my poolside daybed, swimming, mimosas, etc...
yesterday was my 3rd and final day at the pool. a new waitress was working, a bit snotty. whatever, i'm there to swim and soak up the lovely dry heat. (thanks arthritis & fibromyalgia i've got a tan!) i spent all morning there, went to my room for a break and some AC, then headed back for lunch. a turkey sandwich and red sangria. yum!
i started lunch and the waitress handed me a bill for $90. i said, "wow, that's an expensive turkey sandwich!" and laughed, thinking it was some silly mistake.
she explained that it included the cost of the day bed. i explained that it was supposed to be comped. she explained that she didn't know and it was the end of her shift, so could i just sign it? i explained that fuck no (in my head) i would not sign it because it was wrong.
so the explaining wasn't working and i asked to speak to the manager. she huffed off. i put down my sangria and prepared to talk to the manager. i wanted to be nice about it, because it was just a silly mistake.
here's how the conversation went:
manager: you needed something?
me: oh yeah, there's been a mistake, this daybed rental was comped by the hotel manager.
manager: that was for yesterday
me: yesterday was when the kid puked in the pool and it had to be shut down.
dick manager: well we comped you for yesterday, you have to pay for today.
pissed of me: huh? that doesn't make sense. i was at the pool for an hour, had a mimosa and the kid puked. what am i being comped for??? how do you comp for a comp that was ruined by a sick kid?
asshole manager: you are being comped for the drink and the fruit salad.
livid me: that doesn't make a lick of sense. really. i'm done with this. you can have the daybed back.
smirking manager: oh, i'll hold the daybed for you, incase you come back.
incredulous me: no thanks.
smirking asshole manager: i'll hold it for you.
about to explode in a fit of rage me: there's no way i'm coming back.
fucker mcfuckface manager: i'll hold it for you.
this is when the tears of anger started. thank god for large sunglasses.
so instead of smashing his smirking face with my iPad, i got up, left my drink, and walked over to a nice family that has just arrived and were desperately looking for shade. i asked them if they'd like my daybed, as i was done using it. they were so excited. i pointed to the manager and said, "if you need anything, just ask him for help." and i walked away.
and as i walked away, i saw his smirk disappear. and in my head, i laughed and laughed.
and then i got to the room, cooled off, and called the hotel manager to let him know that his pool manager had not only charged me for a comped day bed, but that he made me cry. the manager was horrified. he went through our bill and explained that the comped day bed was actually a $50 credit on our bill. which made sense. he asked for the managers name and said that he should have taken the time to look at my bill, or at least handled it better.
he offered to move up to some fancy penthouse suite for the night, but i declined. i said, "i'm not here to get things comped. i know some people are obsessed with that. i just want to pay for things and have them work and i want things to be fair. i don't want to be treated with disrespect. i'm 42 years old and in that time i've never sent a meal back or filed a complaint. i'm not picky or fussy. i just want things to be fair and ok. thanks for the upgrade off, but we leave tomorrow, so no point in moving."
today our actual vacation begins. dan's done working. we move to a nice little hotel (vdara) on the strip. tons of suff in walking distance, like the bellagio & the cosmopolitan. i can't wait to check out the new hotel and the pool, of course.
after dan gets some rest, we're going to have a blast. we want to go to freemont street at night. i'm going to zipline there! we're going to try and find the in & out burger near UNLV campus and a dive bar that doug stanhope once recommended to me (the double down.) we might take a tour bus to a nation park.
oh, here's a funny letter that "the trump" sent to an online style writer, who mentioned his toupe in an article. (maybe he'll send me a letter!)
post script:
some more fun with trump!
here's the store where you can buy a pack of gum for $4! or you can go to pay, hear the price and say "no thanks" (fuck that noise!) and walk out.
trump merch, including his own cologne for men. if it's anything like the perfumed scent in the lobby, i'm guessing it's called "failure".
there's me!
the croque madam breakfast with Mornay sauce was excellent.
hey wait, there's no grilled tomato on my damned sandwich! i asked the waitress about it and she said the menu was wrong and needed corrected.
oh donald... even your menus are full of fail.
love,
xxxooo
bittergirl