Here too many times

I've been in Boston way too much in the last year. This is visit number five inthe last year and a half, and it's to the point that I can actually find my way around. I can't give directions, nor can I neccesarily find my way home blindfolded as I once did out of Hollywood in college, starting with only an intersection. I do, however, recognize city names. I recognize buildings. I know which direction is North. I can navigate to the airport. I can drive without being flustered.

I have clearly spent too much time in Boston.

Time for a new city.

 Town of Bitch, population: Me.

All I wanted was a bed.

Instead, I got a one way ticket to the town of Bitch, population: me.

So, this is my last tournament with Mischief. With the roster solid, and full of enough women players that I'm not needed, this should be the last tournament I go to with the team. Certainly as a player, as I haven't ruled out taking statistics. Of course, that assumes the team is okay with my tagging along. I think the next tournament isn't until the middle of August, so I have time to ponder the next tournament.

Given this is my last expected tournament with the team, I was really hoping, hoping beyond hope, that I would be able to go to the tournament and, like everyone else, just have everything taken care of for me: someone else rent the car, someone else deal with the rooms, someone else deal with game times and getting the players to the right fields, someone else deal with the organizing and coordinating, and just let me play.

The biggest reason I became the defacto team manager so long ago was because every time I left it to someone else, something disastrous happened and I would get screwed. Okay, a bit dramatic there, and a definite exaggeration, but if not screwed, certainly get the short end of whatever stick happened to be presented.

Think: Rippit, Regionals 2002 and the disgusting hotel to save $20 a night.

Of course, there are serious, way big exceptions to this rule, Nationals 2005 being the perfect example of this.

Yeah, well, tonight wasn't an exception, unfortunately. Since I was flying in from Chicago, and not with the group, despite the fact I was scheduled to arrive two hours before everyone, there wasn't car space for me, I'd have to get my own car. WTF? I'm arriving BEFORE everyone else so that they don't have to wait for me, but I have to rent my own car.

Fine. Whatever.

My carload, which I have to admit, was the best carload ever, with Mark, Wade and Andy, went to get cannolis in Boston's North End. However, by the time we finished eating and the retarded GPS unit navigated us through Boston to the hotel, we were the last to the hotel.

Last to the hotel that gave us three rooms with single king sized beds instead of two double beds. So, each room sleeps two, maybe three on the big bed, instead of four.

Last one to the hotel equals no bed space.

This is why I make the travel arrangements. This is why I always want to be the first to a hotel. This is why I always get more rooms than the team thinks it needs. $100 / 20 people is $5 a person, and $5 I'm willing to cover if needed. Hell, I was willing to get my own room tonight, I didn't care.

I went up to the woman at the front desk for help. "You gave us three rooms with King sized beds. That's six bed spaces. We reserved three rooms with double beds, that's twelve bed spaces. One of those missing spaces is my bed space. What are you going to do to fix this problem?"

"We don't have any rooms available."

Right. So much for getting another room. "That's not what I asked. I asked what are you going to do to solve my problem, the problem you created?"

"We don't have any rooms."

"Do you have any rollaway beds available?"

"Uh..."

"Perhaps you should move several rollaway beds into each room, and comp the cost, since this was your error."

"Uh... I'll have to wait for my manager."

In the end, I was so angry with the incompetence of the woman at the front desk that I just launched into bitch-mode, becoming completely ineffective in resolving the bed issue. Mark saved me by running down the hall, around the corner, and returning with a rollaway bed and three blankets. The rollaway had been used, but sleeping on a blanket and under another one, and I was fine.

Now that I have bed, I'm embarrassed about my inability to resolve the problem myself. If someone else had a problem, I'd be able to solve it. My problems? I just become bitch.

I need to know when Regionals are this year to make hotel arrangements sooner than later. That, and I'm glad the team has Spawnfest hotel rooms already. Gah.

 Boston photos

Random shots from Boston these last few days:

 Boston buildings

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