When I travel alone, I generally need pretty simple accommodations. A regular hotel room meets all of my needs.
That’s why I booked the most affordable place I could when I went to Las Vegas earlier this week. Maria and Bridget had other plans, so I took the chance for a solo trip to gamble, eat too much, and sleep too little.
I arrived late Sunday night at the Imperial Palace, ready to check into a room which cost me just over $100 total for three nights. The place is a little old and not very fancy, but it has great rates and a perfect location.
Besides, I didn’t plan on spending a lot of time in my room so I didn’t need the fancy furniture or hot tubs I could find at other hotels. Especially since those things come with a price tag I didn’t want to pay.
Flight delays across the country made the line to check-in pretty long, even at 10:30 p.m. By the time I got to the front, I just wanted to get my key, drop off my things and play some poker.
Little did I know that the woman helping me had a different idea.
Originally, I planned to try a little Vegas trick and slip the clerk a $20 bill so see if she could get me a “free upgrade,” but I passed on the idea because I figured a tired clerk and full hotel didn’t put the odds in my favor.
I made just one request. I wanted to be away from the side of the hotel which overlooked an outdoor bar at an adjacent property. They have music until 4 a.m. or something like that. Vegas has enough distractions. I didn’t need another one.
The clerk made jokes about how she would make sure I had the closest room to the noise as she looked through over a chart which showed the location of each individual room. I wondered why she was taking so much time picking one for me.
Finally, as a couple next to me complained to their clerk about the wait and how the hotel only had no more non-smoking rooms available, my clerk said six words I could not believe.
“I put you in the penthouse.”
A little stunned, I fished around in my pocket for the $20 bill I had decided not to flash and slid it across to her after she explained how to access the top floor.
I managed to find my way there, wondering what kind of room awaited. Maybe they just have regular rooms with better views up there, I thought. Like I said, the IP has some years on it, so maybe the penthouse room wouldn’t meet my expectation.
I knew that thought was wrong when I saw the steps to the upper floor upon entering my room. Yep, I had a two-story suite, complete with a bar, jacuzzi and two bathrooms. And they didn’t charge me a penny extra.
A week before I left, Maria and I watched one of the Austin Powers movies, and I joked how I wanted to stay in the kind of suite Austin Powers did.
Little did I know I would. I loved it, even if some of the furnishings looked like they came from the 70s. Guys like me don’t complain when we get to live the high life.
I don’t think she has been on here so the joke is just for us. 🙂
That room sounds awesome. I miss my suite already.
“Flight delays across the country made the line to check-in pretty long, even at 10:30 p.m. By the time I got to the front, I just wanted to get my key, drop off my things and play some poker.
Little did I know that the woman helping me had a different idea.” That’s quite the page-turn tease. I hope Maria didn’t get the “oh no” feeling that I did. :p
Nice suite. I was on a week-long business trip in Japan 15 years ago, spending the first six days in a “business hotel” in the Shinjuku district of Tokyo. Beautifully engineered, but I could just about touch each wall from the middle of the room. Floorspace in Tokyo = $$$$ (or, more appropriately, ¥¥¥¥). You can’t sit in a hotel lobby—there are no “public” chairs—unless you’re buying and consuming something.
The last night our clients comped us a room at the ANA Prince overlooking the Imperial Gardens downtown—about 1000 square feet of California King-size bed, lounge and mini-bar/kitchenette. It was downright sumptuous after Shinjuku (and larger than our first house).