The Suite Life

– the view from my “room” –

The night started off like all the others this week.

“Checking in, Hitha Palepu,” I said, handing over my driver’s license and American Express to the front desk manager.
“Long day?” he asked.
“Yes – started in Ohio, and ended up here.  I’m excited to sleep.”
“I hear that.  Let me see what I have for you.”

As I wait, I replay the conversation with my taxi driver in my head…
“You should ask for an upgrade.  Can’t hurt” he said as we pulled into Caesar’s Palace.
“Should I?  Any chance I’ll actually get one?” I reply.
“Sure – it’s a Wednesday night, still a little slow.  Just go for it.”

I clear my throat.  “Excuse me – is there any chance of an upgrade?  This is my third hotel this week, and I’d really like to have more space, a nicer room.” I ask, sheepishly.
With a cheeky smile, he replies “I’ll see what I can do.  Lucky for you, I can do an awful lot around here.”
“Great.”

A few moments pass as he taps away on his computer.  He punches out two key cards, writes the room number in the folder.  “We’re booked to capacity,” he says.  “But I got you a bigger room.  I think you’ll like it.”
“Excellent.  Where is this room?”

He traces the path to my tower through the casino on a map and hands over the keys.  “Enjoy your stay!”

I walk through the casino, pass bars and restaurants (was sorely tempted to sit for some Australian Open and a dirty martini), and straight into an elevator.  Dragging my suitcase along the quintessential Vegas long hallway to my room, I finally reach the room.  Fumbling for my key card, I finally enter it in the slot and enter.

My living/dining room, that is.

My boy HOOKED IT UP.  The suite is a good 3x larger than my NYC apartment, and with amazing amenities – cozy furniture, a steam shower, jacuzzi, TVs all over the suite, and a closet that I want to move into.

I drop my bags and do what any sane, mature person would do – jump on the bed.

Wrapped in my Caesar’s Palace robe, teeth brushed and face washed, I’m curled up in this heavenly bed (remade from the jumping)  and slowly drifting off to sleep.

As rough as this week has been (a different hotel in a different city every night and clocking 4 hours in small commuter planes today), it’s amazing what wonderful service and a sweet suite can do to turn around your day.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a serious date with this bed.