Late Night Check In

After work yesterday I went to O'Hare to catch a flight to Baltimore, the flight was delayed so I didn't land until half past ten. I rented a car and drove to Harrisburg(for a friend's wedding) and didn't roll into my hotel until a little before one in the morning. I took a bus to a train to a plane to a bus to a car.

I like traveling. There's a comfort in the isolation of it, your separate and apart from all the day-to-day stuff that shapes how your normal life operates. There's lots of time to think, reflect, and imagine. I always look forward to all that time- to dive into a good book, write, or just sit quietly. I also find it relaxing in a way. Buses and airports and planes and car rentals all have their specific routines that don't really change. Rest stops always have beef jerky. Airport McDonald's are always busier then regular McDonald's. Everybody pees after a flight. There's also just something pleasurable about being on the move, being in transit, in simple motion.

That is all to say no matter the circumstances I like getting out of Chicago and away from my normal schedule. But. Checking into the hotel last night was one of the most bizarre traveling experiences I've ever had. The hotel is located, basically, on the Susquehanna River so the route to get there was kind of circuitous. Once I got there it was clear the place was under construction, the "night check-in" was a glass window with a safety drawer like at a currency exchange. Evidently the place was full to capacity. I had to wait while the attendant called the manager in order the authorize an "upgrade" for me because all the rooms of the type I booked were occupied. That took about 20 minutes and it was clear the attendant thought I was going to throw a fit, which I didn't I just waited, too tired by that point to do much of anything save pray I didn't have to find alternative shelter. I finally got my key and headed to my room.

I was immediately on guard when I saw the door to the room was open and the TV was on. I peeked in and the bed was unmade and the furniture moved around. I stood in the doorway for a minute wondering if I had been given it by mistake and it was occupied. In the room there was a kitchenette with a partial stove and a refrigerator. This was the type of hotel people actually lived in which was another warning sign. I went through the room to make sure there wasn't anyone's stuff in it, there wasn't, and eventually came to the tentative conclusion that the person must have checked out late and housekeeping hadn't got around to turning over the room. Whether the attendant knew the circumstances and banked on it being too late for me to make a stink or if they were ignorant I just accepted it and dead bolted the door. Half anticipating an angry resident would return during the early hours. Thankfully my sleep was uninterrupted.