Thursday, December 22, 2005

Better on the Whole 

The rest of the Florida trip went fine, with just a couple of minor hitches.

I mentioned in my last post that I had been waiting an hour for the lead PM to call me and let me know she was ready to go to dinner. It was about another 45 minutes before the call finally came. She'd been reading and responding to her e-mail the whole time. It's not like there was anyone in the offices to receive it, but she just hates to leave an e-mail unopened or unresponded. We ended up eating in the hotel restaurant as we were both too tired by that time to drive anywhere.

After dinner we walked out beachside briefly, then headed back in since it was too dark to see anything. Made plans that I'd swing by her room around 7:00 so we could have breakfast in the restaurant downstairs prior to our 8:00 client site visit. Next morning (Tuesday) I was in the elevator on the fourth floor, where my room was, at 7:05. At 7:05 and 10 seconds I the elevator had arrived at the second floor, where the lead PM's room was. By 7:06 the doors had yet to open, and I began pushing various buttons like "Door Open" and similar things, finally pushing "Alarm." This only rang a bell, which only lasted as long as I was holding the button. Finally I looked for the ever-present emergency telephone, without luck. Later I spotted it at floor level. Convenient.

Since I had yet to find the innovative Floor Phone, I pulled out my cell phone and Palm. I had downloaded my itinerary into my calendar, and it included contact numbers. Called the hotel, and informed them that I was in the elevator and the doors wouldn't open. They asked me which elevator. I had no recall. There are three, and I had traveled in them several times. I took a guess that it was the one on the lobby side. Turns out I was in the middle one. Oh well. On hold for a few minutes, then they informed me that they were going to reset my elevator and have me out in just a few minutes. I asked them to please transfer my call to room 239 so I could let the PM know what was going on.

*Waiting.* *Waiting.*

After a while, I started hearing some promising noises, and then a few fingers appeared in the opening crack of the doors. Then they disappeared, as did the tiny crack. Then I heard some drastic grunting and straining, and the door was pried open by the burly hotel manager, allowing me to step down 6 inches to the second floor. By this point we had to skip breakfast, but we made it to the client site on time.

More on the PM and her e-mail obsession later.

Posted by Beth Henderson at 7:33 PM