*Warning (see below)

UPDATE - The general manager of the hotel is out of the office until Thursday, as I learned when I called the hotel Monday. Where the phone rang something like 15 times before the recording picked up. Of course when i was there Friday, this was not ever mentioned; the dude just said he was out that day.

Is there a giant neon sign over my head? I’m thinking that maybe there is and it says “Fuck with the Crip” and it’s been there since about mid-September. Faithful readers of this blog probably saw my rant about the Bouchercon trip and how at times I’ve just felt completely unable to cope with the lack of disability access and awareness. Feeling like I'm somehow the only disabled person on planet earth - despite huge evidence to the contrary. Feeling like I'm having to fight the huge fight on my own - to explain for the first time what is required, and to point out that no really, some people really ARE disabled. No, no kidding, really honest. It’s like I’ve fallen into some fucking timewarp where ADA doesn’t apply or it’s only voluntary or well, someone’s targeted me. It would date to almost exactly a month ago, almost to the day that I started dealing with the hotel shuttle issue and the party access issue and the Madison sidewalks issue. Just a mere 30 days. But that was over and done with. Right.

A couple days ago I made an appointment to go downtown to go through a hotel near the Renaissance. This is yet another possibility for an “overflow hotel”. I had a conversation with the sales guy during which time I spoke to him about getting a block of rooms for the convention. I also mentioned that I used a motorized scooter. I sent him an email with a link to the LCC website so he’d know something about us.

He responded to that email Thursday afternoon asking me to call him about something I’d said (I mentioned that we’d be especially interested in double-double rooms over king) but I did not have time to call him back and, well, I was going to see him the next day. Friday. When I had a 1 pm appointment.

So I go up earlier than normal this morning and had a hard time getting going but got down to his fucking hotel right at 1 pm. Got into the lobby and was informed by the guy at the desk that “oh, Mike called in sick today.” Mind you it was 1 in the afternoon. I had not gotten any emails telling me he was sick. I had no phone calls telling me the meeting was off. I had checked of course before I left the house this morning. I said something to that effect – but all I got was that Mike didn’t have an assistant. And I said “so like no one checked his calendar or his email or anything to see if he had any appointments?” Nor did Mike – and lemme tell you he had better have bubonic plague, man – try to reach me or tell anyone to reach me. I don’t know if he had my phone number – I can’t recall - but he had my name. I’m in the phone book (I’m sure that would never have occurred to anyone even if any of them had thought to check his desk, his computer, his fucking blotter, his day-timer. And of course there’s that email, so he had information on how to reachme and he could have directed someone (man, I hope he’s got something so horrid that he hasn’t stopped throwing up. This would explain why/how he was too sick to tell anyone to try to find me and cancel our appointment.

So the guy behind the desk (no, I didn’t get his name but, no he didn’t even try introducing himself) says “well I can show you some rooms.” Okay. “What do you want to see? The regular room?” Well, I’d like to see a range of rooms, bubba. I’m trying to do business here and no, one room would not be sufficient. I want to see a sample. And oh, I want to see a handicapped access room (because a) it’s always a measure of the hotel’s commitment, and I had read someone’s comment that this place had small rooms and boy, that matters. Anyone who’s used a scooter or who’s roomed with me (Hi Cornelia sweetie) knows the fun you can have trying to find a place to park the damn thing so you can charge it.)

“We don’t have any handicapped accessible rooms.”

“You don’t.”

“No. We’re exempt from ADA.”

“I see. So there’s not a single one in the hotel. Hmmm, okay. Well, all right.” (since this is not for me….but note what is missing. Any attempt at courtesy or apology? No. “we’re exempt”.) (good for you bubba.)

“The hotel is old enough that”…yeah yeah, okay.

So the guy comes out from behind the counter and comes over. I’m looking to see where the elevator is, figuring it’s around that-a-way, so we’ll head that-a-way and at least I’ll get a sense of the regular and deluxe rooms and the double double and king set-ups.

“So we can either go down these stairs or up those other ones around the other way.”

“Excuse me?”

I’m in my fucking scooter. I’ve asked about ADA. And this guy still seems unclear on the concept of how he is going to show me the rooms.

“I don’t do stairs.”

“Oh well, um…”

“There’s no elevator? The only way is stairs?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Okay, look.” I say. “I’m trying to give you guys some business. This isn’t your fault but this is ridiculous. I had an appointment, and now I can’t even see the rooms. I want to talk to Mike’s supervisor please.”

“Oh that would be our general manager. He’s not here. He’s off today.”

Yeah. Right.

And the guy goes and gets a card – not the GM’s card, but a generic hotel card and writes the GM’s name on it for me. No direct line to the guy, mind you.

Son. Of. A. Bitch. I have schlepped downtown on the bus for a meeting. I dressed UP, I got moving when it was difficult (my shoulder decided today would be an excellent day to be exceedingly nasty and painful).

There is nothing on the website of the hotel that says they have no ADA rooms. There is nothing to indicate that god forbid you want to visit a friend staying there, you get to do stairs. There’s nothing whatever to inform anyone that due to an exemption, they don’t have to do shit.

And this place is trying to be an “upscale boutique hotel”. And they so clearly don’t care. I don’t know exactly how you tell people you’re not accessible but in this day and age, with most people being somewhat aware of the fucking law, don’t you think it’s fair for me to assume that a hotel is accessible? I guess they assume you find out when you make a reservation. But I wasn’t making a reservation. So tough shit for me, huh? Good thing I didn't have an assignation with a guest. or an ANYthing.

And I have got to decide whether to sign an agreement with this place because I need hotel rooms.

WARNING; if swearing bothers you do not read this because I’m fucking mad and I’m going to swear. A lot. And if you think it shows a lack of “imagination” tough (I always find that line on DorothyL annoying. People who say that clearly have happy lives and never get angry. Which scares me.)