Everything was going perfect.
No traffic getting to the airport. Scored a fantastic parking spot. Flights were on time. No turbulence. The only thing I could possibly complain about was that there was only one First Class seat available between New York and Chicago and I took one for the team and allowed Butch to have it. It's a short flight so even that is not much to complain about.
Like I said, everything was perfect... until we got to our hotel. We are staying at the W in Minneapolis. We checked in and proceeded to get into the elevator and then it happened. Bang, grind, bang, slam... stuck. Not just stuck. Stuck would have been good. I was begging for stuck. The elevator became possessed by evil spirits. We'd shoot up a few floors and then jerk down a few and then sit awhile and then shoot up and so on. Butch and I were yelling into the little speaker. They had to call the fire department to rescue us. We were in the crazy, evil elevator for about 20 minutes. 20 minutes that felt like an eternity. When we finally got out, they rushed us into the manager's office. She asked what she could do for us and I said "How about a room on the first floor?" She moved us to a room on the 2nd floor. Needless to say, Butch and I are taking the stairs. The W is also picking up the tab. You think?
Here's the sign in front of Christine the elevator now:
No traffic getting to the airport. Scored a fantastic parking spot. Flights were on time. No turbulence. The only thing I could possibly complain about was that there was only one First Class seat available between New York and Chicago and I took one for the team and allowed Butch to have it. It's a short flight so even that is not much to complain about.
Like I said, everything was perfect... until we got to our hotel. We are staying at the W in Minneapolis. We checked in and proceeded to get into the elevator and then it happened. Bang, grind, bang, slam... stuck. Not just stuck. Stuck would have been good. I was begging for stuck. The elevator became possessed by evil spirits. We'd shoot up a few floors and then jerk down a few and then sit awhile and then shoot up and so on. Butch and I were yelling into the little speaker. They had to call the fire department to rescue us. We were in the crazy, evil elevator for about 20 minutes. 20 minutes that felt like an eternity. When we finally got out, they rushed us into the manager's office. She asked what she could do for us and I said "How about a room on the first floor?" She moved us to a room on the 2nd floor. Needless to say, Butch and I are taking the stairs. The W is also picking up the tab. You think?
Here's the sign in front of Christine the elevator now:
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