OK, this time my excuse for not being around isn't World of Warcraft.
On Friday, I get home about 5 p.m. to find a cop car and a truck from the power utility at my apartment building. Turns out someone stole, or tried to steal, some of the copper lines connected the building to the power grid.
But the owners of the building are cheap and don't care about any tenants there (there are two or three other units now occupied by some families), and it's the weekend, and the representative of the owners says he's not sure when they will bother to fix things and reconnect the building to the power lines. Not only that, but since the owners and the guy who owns my unit are still at odds, he actually threatens that once the power is reconnected, he will make sure mine isn't.
I tried to get some electricians out to look at the problem to see if they can at least just reconnect me, but it's the weekend, or they're busy, or they want some kind of OK from the power utility first, and of course the utility is closed on the weekend.
Friday night I sleep at the office on a futon on chilly tile, because at least it's cool and I won't sweat miserably in my apartment.
For the weekend though, I need something beyond that. I book a room at Best Western. They have a $109 2-day package and all rooms have high-speed Internet, so I lug over my eMac and a couple changes of clothes.
Hook up the computer and nothing. Turns out they recently discontinued using the modems that are still in the rooms, and are completely wireless. I have no wireless card in my computer. I argue for a bit and get a full refund.
Still stuck without a cool place with Internet connection. Call the Hilton and ask for the local rate. Am pleasantly surprised when informed about a weekend getaway special for $150 that includes welcoming drinks, breakfast ... though high-speed Internet will cost me $12.99 per night (24 hours). Oh well ... booked ... checked in ... connected ... happy.
Bed's a little hard, but the room is great and the view is awesome.
So everything's cool, right?
Until I go to check out Monday morning.
Turns out there was a "miscommunication." The weekend getaway rate of $150 is PER NIGHT. I argue that I was told it was $150 for the weekend. Front desk goes to get a manager. Who is extremely rude. It is what it is, he says. A miscommunication, but tough shit, basically. Any attempt to ameliorate an angry guest? Any discount on that or future stays? A free brunch? Nada.
"I'm never coming back here again," I growl.
"That's too bad," the manager says.
Go back to apartment. Nothing's been done. Go into work.
During lunch break, look at a couple apartments. Squallid. Dirty. Dingy. Urine smells in hallway.
Back to work.
Look at nice place in afternoon ... only double my current rent.
Home. Clean some. Organize some. Sweat lots.
Shower. Mall. ATM. Two-choice dinner. Movies — "Fracture."
Currently at work. At almost 11 p.m. Know I have to go home soon and sweat some more.
Will I be able to sleep at all in the heat?
Probably some, but not well.
Hope your weekends were much better.




