Sorry to tease and run. Been a busy week here in lovely Rock Hill, SC. I’ve tried to read as much of the MMP as I could, but haven’t had much chance to reply until today.
A little backstory on how I came to be here: After my last job in Arkansas, I was set to head to Plano TX for a short project from November 13 to November 22, then be home for Thanksgiving plus another week, then a two-week job in Arizona. Sounded good to me.
While figuring out travel plans to Texas, I learned that the guy I was to partner with there had a death in the family and wasn’t going. The company tried in vain to replace him, but instead ended up rescheduling that whole job for after the holiday - which would have overlapped with the Arizona job. I wasn’t sure if I lost those two weeks, or if Arizona would be pushed back as well.
Before that question could be answered, I looked at the schedule to see that Plano had been moved back to its original dates - but I wasn’t on it anymore! What the Fu—?!
So I contacted the operations manager and said “What the Fu—?”, only slightly more politely. I was treated to a long story of various scheduling problems and delays, causing a cascade of personnel changes. I could tell he was frustrated by it all and truly sorry for my inconveniences. And I could see I wasn’t the only person affected; nevertheless, my name on the schedule was followed by a row of blank lines. Not ideal. He said Arizona is still on, and he’d do his best to get me somewhere else before then as well.
The end of the week came and went, and I figured I wasn’t going anywhere until after Thanksgiving.
Then Monday morning, I woke to a text asking me to look for a flight to Charlotte arriving Tuesday afternoon! Nothing like short notice.
I booked a flight, packed, and got up stooopid early the next morning for a 6:00 am flight connecting through Houston. The good news is, the actual flying portion of the trip went quite smoothly.
(Well, except for the flight attendant who gave me grief about putting my backpack in the overhead, because it was small enough to fit under the seat. First of all, I had a backpack and a CPAP, and they weren’t both going to fit under the seat. Second of all, under the seat is where my feet go, which you may not be able to relate to being five foot nothing, but for someone north of six feet is pretty essential. Third of all, you’re telling me that if I chose to travel with a ginormous roller bag that barely fits down the aisle, that would be OK to put in the overhead but my small backpack isn’t? Where’s the logic in that? The airlines brought this mess upon themselves by charging two arms and half a leg for checked baggage. No, I didn’t say any of this out loud and remained polite. Since it wasn’t a full flight, my stuff was allowed to stay up where it was. But Jeez.)
Anyway, both flights were on time. I exited the plane in Houston and looked to see what gate my next flight was departing from, to see that it was the same one I’d just arrived at! Half an hour later, I walked through the same gate, back to the same row on the same plane, and put my stuff in the same overhead bin. Nobody said anything.
The ops manager himself picked me up in Charlotte. He was leaving town that evening after dropping me off at the hotel. When I’d asked him about the hotel the day before, he’d said “I made a reservation for you, they’re expecting you.”
During the drive, he kind of offhandedly said, “I might want to bring you back here after Thanksgiving.” I asked if Arizona was still on and he said yes, so I have no idea how the logistics of that would work. We’ll see, but I’m skeptical.
Anyhow, we get to the hotel around 6:00. The rest of the team (who had arrived the previous day) is in the lobby, ready to go to dinner. I’ll just check in, drop off my bags, and we can all head out.
However, the desk clerk can’t find my reservation. Eventually, my manager found the reservation number on his phone, and the desk clerk said, “Oh, yeah, there it is. (Pause) We have you checking in tomorrow.” And the hotel is allegedly completely sold out, not a room to be had.
There happen to be two Marriott-branded hotels side by side here, so her next step was to try to find me a room at the other one. Nope, no luck.
At which point one of the other guys chimes in, “I have a sofa bed in my room!” I didn’t want it to come to that, but I clearly wasn’t getting my own room at either of the two sister hotels, and everyone was anxious to get to dinner, so I put my bags in Jerry’s room and we headed to Buffalo Wild Wings.
Over dinner it was brought up that the company has an obligation to put me up, even if it isn’t at their preferred property or at the negotiated rate. So I did have the option of looking for a room elsewhere. But the negatives were having to change hotels after one night, not having the whole team staying in the same place, and the fact that I was already beat to hell after a long day of traveling.
Since we had an early start the next morning, and Jerry sincerely didn’t seem to mind letting me crash in his room (in fact, he’s the kind who wants to do these kinds of things for people), I decided to go that route.
The sofa bed seemed good enough at first. But after a while the metal bar was digging into my spine more and more painfully, and there was no way I was getting comfortable enough to fall asleep. The best move would have been to pull the mattress off and lay it on the floor. But poor Jerry was already snoring away in his bed and I didn’t have the heart to wake him up. I ended up turning myself sideways, nestled horizontally between the two metal bars, with my feet hanging off the end at the knees. Amazingly, I was so tired that I actually got some pretty decent sleep that way.
In the morning, we met in the lobby for breakfast and proceeded to go to work. We’re organizing the parts crib at a glass factory. It’s a fascinating process. They have a machine (well, a series of machines, really) that’s about half a mile long, and produces a single continuous 12-foot wide sheet of glass 24/7, at about half a foot per second. The job itself has proven quite challenging and requires more brain power than usual, which I like.
So after the work day - this is Wednesday now - we return to the hotel and I proceed to the desk to check into my own room. Where, surprise! They can’t find my reservation. The ops manager who had the reservation number left town the night before. I texted him asking for that number (and the project lead called him) but he did not respond.
Then the project lead somehow remembered the name of the reservations representative that the manager had called, and managed to get hold of that same person, who was able to find the number in her records. With that, the desk clerk was indeed able to find my reservation. My name was spelled wrong, which is why she couldn’t before. 
Then, after a bit of typing, she says, “We don’t have any standard king rooms left.” I don’t care, I’ll take two doubles, whatever you got. “Hmm, those are all gone too.”
I felt like Seinfeld in the car rental episode - “You know how to take the reservation; you just don’t know how to hold the reservation. And that really the most important part of the reservation!”
The only room left in the place is the Executive Suite. “I guess we can give you that room at the same rate.” Damn skippy you can.
Of course, this takes a managerial override, and another ten minutes added to the half hour or so I’ve already been standing there. But the conclusion to this story is that I’ve since been living in what amounts to a small apartment, with a full kitchen, dining area, living room, and two bedrooms. Not bad.
But from now on I’m going to insist on making my own reservations.
