“Laura, we are at the Marriott! This is NOT in my budget!” I squealed on the phone to my Bestie.
After a few more minutes John returned to the car.
“Robyn, grab your bag, valet is going to park the car,” John informed me.
My stomach dropped and my inner honesty, bluntly confessed, “John, I can’t afford to stay here tonight – it’s way out my budget!”
“Don’t worry about it, I got a really great rate.”
“OH? $60 a night great?”
I’m panicking at this point. This is not part of the plan, I’m independent. If anything, I might consider going dutch (spliting) - but I was convinced that half of this night was nearly my entire weekend budget.
I looked into the rear view mirror – my hair was a mess from sitting in a car all afternoon. I looked down and I was wearing a pair of comfy blue jeans. Young, naive, and on an adventure I left my keys in the ignition and did as I was asked.
As we walked up to the doors of the gorgeous Marriott hotel, I felt like royalty. We entered the hotel lobby- the staff all looked up and watched us. I was initially convinced that I was an eye sore. However, when I learned where we were headed, I trust they were curious to know who we were.
The bell boy carried our bags inside and as the capable cowgirl I am, tried to take my bag off his hands. The gentleman politely informed me “that he would help us to our room.” Oh really…
When we got into the elevator, I paid extra attention to where we were headed. His finger pushed, PH.
Ahh…I blinked…a lot! Picking up my jaw from the floor, I keenly observed the numbers flash as we went up.
…28, 29, PH
The door opened – we had arrived on the top floor – the Penthouse level!
Happily Married and Living With Passion,
Robyn
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