I peeled my Corntown Fancy ass from bed Friday morning, cursing the Ohio grapes and PBR, and got to work loading up all my shit to head to the big city.
After stuffing my rental to the gills with bags, dresses, centerpieces, un-finished DIY’s, and the like, I ran a few last-minute errands (orange juice, shoe inserts, snacks, thank you cards, etc) and finally made it to the Hyatt around 3:30.
I asked the valet guy to please have somebody bring my stuff up to my room, because it’s wedding weekend and I wasn’t about to do anything myself that I could pay somebody to do. He asked what I needed brought up.
ALLLLL of it. Yes, everything. Target bags, suitcases, boxes full of flowers & breakables. Yes, I realize there is only one of me, and appx, 400 lbs of shit. Just bring it up.
Checked in, called bridesmaid Ali to let her know I was there, and headed up to my room.
Errr, suite. Estate. Small village.
HOLY SHIT this “room” was bigger than my parents’ house. Two sitting areas, kitchen, 1.5 bathrooms, and a hallway. Seriously, how many hotel rooms have hallways?!
The Arcade is a historic landmark, and I can appreciate that they try to keep the old charm in the details of the hotel, but the Hyatt could def do some work updating their rooms. Sure it was huge, and the leather couches & recliners were super comfy, but the worn carpet and tube tv’s could go. Maybe slap on a fresh coat of paint. Stop starching the shit out of their sheets.
But what do I know, I’m just a nit-picky bridezilla. (that’s some foreshadowing, ps.)
Ali & her husband came up to hang out and help take up space in my humongo room, and mentioned that they saw the carts with all my shit on them in the lobby.
S : Fantastic, cuz we have to start getting ready soon – let’s try and leave for the shower at 5.
Chat, chat, chat, BS, BS, BS… still no luggage. After about 30 minutes I called the front desk to see what the heck was going on.
Hyatt Front Desk Lady : I’m soooo sorry, Ms. Soon-To-Be, I’ll have them sent right up to you! Have a nice day!
A little more chit chat, a little more realizing we had less than an hour to get ready. After about 10 minutes Ali & I parked ourselves in my doorway while her husband went to the lobby to track down my belongings.
We saw a bellman in the hallway (with one suitcase and one tote bag on a cart) and I very kindly asked him WHERE THE F my stuff was.
Hyatt Bellman : Oh, yeah! We got 2 carts down in the closet – Ha, we didn’t know who they belonged to and figured you’d call when they didn’t show up. I’ll go get ‘em for ya.
I watched the valet dude write my room # on the claim ticket. The front desk knew what room I was, since I called from my damn room phone. How long were they seriously going to let them sit down there? Wouldn’t a cart full of flowery centerpieces and a bridal gown seem kind of important to deliver???
We rush rush rushed to get ready, called valet to get my car, and left the room about 20 minutes later than planned. Got outside, told valet my claim # and that I’d called ahead, and waited.
At least four parking attendants were standing in a group chatting and acting like imbeciles. Not paying attention to anything or the two impatient girls standing next to them.
I scanned the curb, looking for whatever my black rental with the Michigan plates was. Finally I approached the group, waiving my claim ticket, asking if somebody was getting my f’ing car.
Hyatt Valet : Oh, it’s right over here, ma’am. Let me go grab your key.
WHAT??!!!! Again, how long were they going to let us sit there and wait? Super great to know the hourly workers of Cleveland are so helpful and proud of their work.
Fuming, we drove the 45 minutes to the shower. Thank God it was at a vineyard – I needed wine or a Xanax (or both) like never before.