A Golden Night

It was Friday afternoon, a little after 5:00 and guests were arriving for the extravaganza.  One of the obligations of the host hotel for the Air Show, (full house, rack rate, all week), was tonight's party.  And what a party it was to be!
The bars were set, the food was prepped, servers and staff were all present and the Hotel's courtyard had never looked better.  The stage and dance floor were in place under the biggest white tent money could rent.  Tables and chairs lined up like soldiers and the decorations and centerpieces added to the majesty of the grandest event of the year.
The Glenn Miller Orchestra, 35 piece big band had arrived, set up and were now taking their sound checks.  Car jockeys greeted each guest as they pulled under the porte cochere, opened car doors and gave claim checks.  That was one of the best parts, watching the faces of the guests, decked out in pastels for a summer party, as they walked from the lobby into this amazing space we had prepared for them. 
The advance sales were almost 600 tickets, thank God.  I had really gone out on a limb with this one but the nut was already covered and I could almost relax in a few minutes.  The banner ad towed by a bi-wing airplane for the last three days had been a stroke of luck.  The guy needed rooms and I needed more people to buy tickets; bingo, trade out.
My wife and I had checked into the Presidential Suite earlier and gotten all gussied up.  She looked beautiful as she shared my excitement at having pulled off a huge revenue week for our hotel.
I was standing at the far edge of the tent, showing another couple, (friends of ours), the large red X where at 6:00 The Golden Knights would make their landing.  Yes, it certainly did look dangerous, but they do stuff like this all the time.
The one thing I could not control, the weather, was perfect!  I was feeling lucky.....

"Mr. Van", came from behind me.  It was Annie, the Executive Housekeeper.  The look she had on her face killed my reverie.  I excused myself and followed her to the entry door of one of the poolside rooms about fifty feet from the edge of the dance floor.  Actually, the X for the parachuters was halfway between this room and the open sided tent.
When she opened the guest room with her passkey, I could smell the poor guy.  "He had his Do Not Disturb on so we left it until the last" she said.  "He checked in last night."  I walked over to the bed.  He was a big man.  A little medicine bottle and its spilled contents lay on his chest.  "I bet these little pills are Nitro", I said.  "Did you call 911?" I asked.  Annie had not.  She explained that she had just popped the chain, found him, and came right over to where she saw me standing.
I walked back to the entry door and looked out at a growing crowd.  People were streaming in now.  "How are you going to do this?" I asked myself.
I walked back to the bed, picked up the phone on the night stand and dialed 911.

 I'm sure that the guests who saw the ambulance being waived down by a dishwasher as it turned into the hotel's parking lot from the highway wondered what was happening.  By then, most of the folks were already in the courtyard, having a drink, getting aquainted with others at their table, perhaps wondering why all of those busboys and maids were holding the corners of sheets up in the air, along the sidewalk.  There were a few curious looks.

I figured what they couldn't see was better than what they would have seen.  The fact that my guest left with some dignity did not escape me.  I owed him that; he paid his room and tax.

Every single Golden Knight landed upright on the X about ten minutes after the "sheet holders" marched back to the laundry room and the ladies and gents danced under the stars to the tunes of the greatest band leader of all time.  What a night!

DAY RATES


The first time a guest walked in and asked me for a "day rate', I admit I was stumped. We had more rates in this hotel than we did pillows and "day" wasn't one of them. Seniors, AAA members, government, military, bereavement. The list went on and on. Many of the regular companies who sent business to us had their own special rate worked out with our management which gave them their rooms at various discounts. And our rates were always changing. In-season, off-season, weekend, weekly, long-term, special events. The whole pricing structure would move up and down like the tide depending upon whether we were busy or not. The only group we did not seem to have a discount for was "Red-headed Step-children", however, if a few of them were interested in booking a block of rooms, the Sales Director could work something out in a jiffy.

The other desk clerk inserted himself, "Dave, can I get you to take this reservation?" He handed me the phone. It was a dial tone. As he proceeded to register the guest for a "Day Rate", he said, "Ok sir, our housekeeping leaves at three o'clock this afternoon and you will need to check out before two to get the room for half price." The man looked at his wrist watch, then glanced out the windows at his idling Buick under the canopy, with a hunched down passenger in it. It was a quarter to twelve. "No problem, I have to be back at work by one-thirty."

Ahhhhhh......day rate.