Salt Lake Shitty

So far my journey has been filled with warm, friendly people, behaving in generous and welcoming ways. Even when things have gone wrong along the way, road trip angels have helped me. The first serious wound to my positive experience came in Salt Lake City.

I arrived at about 9:45 pm after a spookily fast drive in 6 lanes of bumper to bumper traffic, through extensive roadworks. In the road work zone the posted speed limit was 55 miles per hour. The traffic speed was over 80 miles per hour. It was a nervous drive. It occurred to me as I was negotiating such heavy traffic at such I speed that I have been in the USA for a long time. This would have seemed very strange to me just a few months ago.

Thelma and I had some trouble finding the guest house where I had booked a room, so I called the reservation number. The young man I spoke with explained that he doesn't drive and couldn't give me directions. I struggled on until I finally found the location, then went inside to complete the online late registration process on the computer in the lounge. I typed in my confirmation number and it was rejected. I opened the original confirmation email, then copied and pasted it into the window. It was rejected again.

I called the reservation number again. The young man asked a series of obvious questions like "Do you have a reservation?" and "Is it for tonight?" I offered to forward him my confirmation email. He eventually told me that he could send a text message to the owner of the property and wait for a response and that I should call back in ten minutes. He also told me that if he hadn't heard back from the owner by then that I would have to leave the property because I was trespassing.

I said that being thrown out of accommodations where I have a reservation late at night in a strange city was really not an option and that I would call back in ten minutes. Ten minutes later the young man had not heard from the owner. He offered me five more minutes before I had to vacate the property where I had already booked a room with my credit card. I explained that was really not good enough and while I understood that it wasn't his fault, he was the only person to whom I could complain. I told him that I had already paid for a bed. He said the fee would be refunded. I told him that the room I had booked was going to cost me $23 and that anything else I could find on such short notice and this late was likely to be closer to $100. How was I going to be compensated for that loss suffered because of their error? He suggested that I could try asking the owner and maybe he would refund it. I said "Yeah, maybe if I sue him for it. I'll call back in five minutes."

I used that five minutes to find and call another nearby hostel on the Internet. They were still open, and had a dorm bed available. Excellent! It wasn't quite as nice as a private room in a guest house, but much better than my other options.

Five minutes later I called the reservations number again and the phone was answered by someone else. I introduced myself and the voice said "Are you the Australian?"

"Well, I'm an Australian."
"The Australian that threatened my concierge?"
"I didn't threaten anyone."
"You threatened to sue us."
"That wasn't a threat."

The voice then launched into a tirade about what he will do to anyone who threatens his staff, including having the police come and cart me away in handcuffs or coming down to take care of me personally. Before I managed to get another word in the voice said "You wait right there. I'll be down there to sort this out."

Hmm. My choices were getting limited at this point. I could wait for psycho voice to come down, see that I have a reservation and am really a nice girl and let me into my room. Or I could cut my losses and take the dorm room across town. I decided to wait. I was tired and still believed that the forces of sanity would prevail.

I had also made a friend. A long term resident of the guest house was wandering around the kitchen and stopped to chat with me while I waited for "The Voice."He is a graduate student at the university who is originally from Papua New Guinea. We talked about the time I spent there in my teens, and he told me that I wouldn't be the first person with a reservation who was summarily dumped out on the street from this guest house. We had plenty of time to talk because over half an hour went by before my phone rang again. It was The Voice.

"Where are you right now?"
"I'm waiting for you."
"I've decided I don't want you on the property. You're trespassing and I don't want you there."
"I wish you'd told me that before you told me to wait and I sat here for half an hour."
"Are you still in the property?"
"Yes, I'm waiting in the lounge with another guest."
"Is it the African man?"
"He's from Papua New Guinea. His name is Jeffrey."
"Put him on the phone."
I did. Jeffrey said "Yes" twice and then gave the phone back.
"Okay. You wait right there and I'm coming over."
"Well, I'm not going to wait all night. How long are you going to be?"
"Five minutes."
"Okay."

I chilled with Jeffrey until The Voice arrived. He spoke with Jeffrey for a moment in the kitchen, then asked me to speak with him outside. He demanded to know if any of my belongings were in the building. I said they were not. He wanted to see my car. I pointed it out to him, parked in spot number 12 exactly according to the instructions. He said that there was a problem with my reservation and he was going to fix it, but now he wouldn't because I threatened his concierge. I tried to explain. He drowned me out.

"You don't have my permission to be here. You're trespassing. You're banned from all my properties. If you ever try to stay in any of them again I'll call the police."

I was now banned from staying in any building owned by "The Voice." I couldn't help it. I laughed. His expression as I drove away made me laugh even harder. Poor little guy. It can't be easy being him every day.

As I was driving away to the hostel across town my phone rang again. It was Jeffrey, wanting to know if I had a place to stay. I explained that it was all okay and thanked him for his concern.

Actually, it all turned out for the best. The hostel was packed to the rafters with interesting characters, with whom I sat up talking for much of the night. Plus, I ended up with this fabulous story to tell about being banned for life by "The Voice."