One time, about twenty years ago now, we took a weekend trip to Toronto where we stayed at the lovely old Royal York Hotel. It was a bit expensive, but we thought we deserved it because we had just quit smoking. The trip really was a way to distract ourselves for our first smokeless weekend.
Either they hadn’t invented non-smoking hotel rooms yet, or we couldn’t get one on short notice, but in any case there were ashtrays all over our room. So that seeing them wouldn’t tempt or torment me, I gathered them all up and stuck them in a drawer.
On Saturday afternoon we ended a day of sight-seeing at the CN Tower, which at the time was the world’s tallest free-standing structure. Up toward the top we found the bar and stopped in to refresh ourselves. We got to talking to the bartender, a middle-aged woman who looked like her feet hurt her. We said we were hoping to have dinner at the tower’s famous rotating restaurant, called “360” because it affords a 360-degree view of the city as it turns. She said that without a reservation, we’d never get in, especially on Saturday night.
It came up in conversation that we were staying at the Royal York, and all of a sudden life changed. Our bartender friend picked up her telephone, pressed a button, and, after a short conversation, informed us she had booked us a window table at 360.
Sometimes it pays to put on the dog.
Meanwhile, when we got back to the hotel that evening, we found that housekeeping had left even more ashtrays all over the room. I put all of them in the drawer with the others.
It wasn't until the next day when we were about halfway home that it dawned on me I should have put the ashtrays back. I was afraid they would think we had stolen them and we'd be getting a bill for them. But we never heard anything about it.
Sometimes I wonder how long it was before somebody found all those ashtrays in the dresser. Or if they ever did.
No comments:
Post a Comment