We booked a Bungalow Queen Suite at MGM Grand months ago. Two queen beds, a pull out, dual vanities, almost 700 sq ft – MORE than enough for five girls to cohabitate in for 2.5 days.
When Mini Twin & I finally went to check in (the rest of the girls went to the car for the remaining luggage), the clerk told us something I’d been told by Vegas pros might happen :
We’re at full capacity tonight for the show (billboards) – since you’re here for the bachelorette party we’re going to upgrade you to our signature wing, in a residential suite.
She told us all about the room – we’d have a king, queen, and a pull out. Full kitchen. The most recently upgraded floor. Direct access to all the pools. Awesomeness in a nutshell.
It took all my cool points to not jump up and down and scream like a 12 year old.
MT & I decided we wouldn’t tell the girls until we got to the room. We knew it was a longer walk than to the regular rooms, and we couldn’t wait for their complaints about hauling heavy bags .9 miles (yes, I mapmyrun’d it) to awestruck, speechless grins and shock.
So we trekked on…
When we finally got to the room, we threw the door open, MT & I ready to yell “YAYYY SURPRISE!”, and…
Complete buzz kill.
One queen, one pull out – in a handicapped room. 150 fewer square feet.
After hearing the bitching & moaning for the past 20 minutes, and having what I thought was the ultimate redemption ace-in-the-hole take a shit in my face, I about stabbed somebody.
Instead of picking up a knife, I picked up the phone (only because I was too tired to walk anywhere to make use of the knife). After about 30 transfers, retelling ad nauseum my story about deceit & false advertising, and at least 50 points raised to my blood pressure, I got a hold of the MGM Manager.
If work has taught me anything about the service/sales industry, it’s that BITCHING, COMPLAINING, AND RELENTLESSNESS can get you pretty much anything you want.
The room was really nice – the full kitchen came in handy and the views were pretty great. And truthfully, L, MT, & I didn’t mind sleeping 3-to-a-bed. Ok except the night MT & I fell asleep before L and she had to sleep by our feet because our drunk, deadweight bodies were completely immobile.
(Sorry about that, again)
After our lovely (free) dinner and tasty (free) cocktails, I resigned from my bitch post and handed the torch to the single ladies to work the freebies for the rest of the night.
To be continued…