MIRAGE
Pr. Mi ra’azh . Noun

1. An optical illusion
2. Something that appears to be real but is unreal or imagined

I am now getting exasperated and start begging for a room number – just so I know where I am going to be - even if it’s not free yet…

This seems to buck ‘the system’ but I am fed up not knowing. Reluctantly the girl taps around her keyboard and finally gives me a number on the 12th floor.

It’s not a king bed as requested –but 2 queens –but it does have a Strip View. By this time, I don’t care what the hell I am going to see out the window – I just want a room!

So armed with the instruction to ‘check back after 3’ I decide to go see where my new room is.

Along the corridor, I get talking to another guest ….she’s going home to Seattle after celebrating her 60th.
As we pass her room she says ‘do you like champagne?’ ‘well…yes!’.. I say (who doesn’t?) She dives in and re-appears holding a bottle …
’Can’t pack this’ she says ‘Have it! And good luck!’

That’s Vegas – the only place in the world where random strangers will give you champagne. Here’s to you Seattle …
So, champagne in hand, I locate my new ‘home’.
And ….it’s got a privacy sign hung on it.

Hmmmm.

Housekeeping are doing next door so I ask the lady if she knows when my room will be ready.

‘Oh – we’re not scheduled to do that one til 7pm’ she says..and looks at me with a ‘who are you ‘ face ...
‘Ah’… I say… ‘I’m homeless and I was hoping to have this room after 3….’

The housekeeping lady looks alarmed. A homeless person wandering around the hotel waving a champagne bottle !?! ….she reaches for the phone…

’No it’s ok....I ‘m a guest here’ I say…’I arrived yesterday - I just don’t have a proper room yet……

Run away before I confuse her even more and she calls security…

At this point I need to have a good moan before I tackle registration again about my hobo status…so I head up to E’s.

He’s also got my luggage.I’d removed it early in the day from my temporary quarters in an effort to be helpful… Now all I want is somewhere to unpack it!

After I’ve finished ranting and raving, E calmly points out that as we have paid for a package, The Mirage already has our money.

So there’s no hurry for them to sort me out.

But if I was a guest who’d made a direct reservation, then I could have just cancelled and walked by now…

He’s right – I’m a captive guest ! Doomed to wander the corridors of The Mirage, weeping and wailing, until they decide to rehouse me…

Right – we’ll see about that….

And, with gritted teeth, I march back to registration….

This time I notice the ‘invited guest’ desk

As I am feeling like a very uninvited guest, I figure I’ll try my luck there….

At last ! Someone who seems able to do something about my nomadic status.

This girl is brilliant .
She patiently listens my tale of woe – and relays it to her manager.
Then she searches the computer
’Your room appears to be ready’ she says …

’But I don’t understand’ I say…’there’s a privacy sign up… and housekeeping said…’…my voice tailing off …

’Well, it’s ready….and we’d like to offer you $75 food & beverage credit for the inconvenience you’ve suffered’…..

Without further ado – after 24 hours in the Mirage – I grab my case from E and head for the 12th. At last I can unpack!

And yes…..the room ……2 queens, strip view …………was mysteriously ready..…..

Perhaps the privacy sign - and the housekeeping lady- were just a mirage……