I never expect checking into a hotel to be easy. This, however, was beyond my normal range of complications. Generally, in all honesty, the only misadventure I can count on is my key card never working on my door. Never. I live at the mercy of hotel staff.
So there we were in La Jolla for a conference. We arrived Wednesday evening a little after ten. Check in was slow and there were people in front of me. Not a problem. I practiced gratitude for all of the wonderful and beautiful sights around me. Check in finally completed, I verified with the valet parking people that I could leave the old Jeep out front while I took luggage to the room. So far so good. Elevator down two floors from the lobby and right to the room. No problem. Key card worked. Always a good sign. Chain lock across the door we tried to open and male voice coming from inside the room -- well not exactly coming more specifically screaming -- Who's there. What do you want.
Oh, our voices coming from somewhere within our startled selves.
And then the man appearing behind the door open only as far as the chain allowed. He seemed to be in his underwear and shocked out of sleep.
"This is our room," we said somewhat stupidly because clearly it wasn't. Nevertheless, we held up our key cards like shields in front of us. The man stared at out shields with uncomprehending eyes.
Finally he stated the obvious, "This is my room."
He left the still partly open door and returned a moment later with his own check-in room number thing and his own key card. Yep. Same room number as the one we had.
Back to the lobby went we and to the check in counter.
"Someone else has our room," said I. "Some guy in his underwear," I added as though that would add clarity to an already perplexing situation.
"How could that have happened?" asked the desk clerk.
I assumed his question was rhetorical. Only later after things were sorted out and we were in our other room, the one not already occupied by a startled man in his underwear did I realize the answer to the once rhetorical question.
Sometimes April First comes a few days early.
And by the way, my key card to this room actually opens the door.
Things have a way of sorting themselves out.