Monday 10 August 2015

Unfortunate Adult Experiences

Sami and I have decided to look at our time at the Days Inn Anaheim as "Unfortunate Adult Experiences". You know the ones, where you are thrown into a situation that is so far out of your wheel house that you don't really know what to do, but at the same time you have to figure it out because you are an adult. Adults can't always call their parents to come bail them out... Well in my case I can, but that is besides the point.
This blog post could be called a few other things. A possible title could be "The Panty Pirate", or "The Invisible Underwear", or even "I Hope No One Sold Them Online". Those would all be appropriate. 
We arrived at the Days Inn on Friday. After exploring Downtown Disney for a while, we were given room 222. I was impressed by the (deceiving) cleanliness of the place, and was blinded by the free wifi and shuttle to the park. We were lulled into a false sense of security. What we should have looked at was the dated decor, the lacklustre staff and the fact that the seatbelts did not work in the van that drove us to the park. But how were we to know what was on our horizon? No one could anticipate the turn of events. 
On Saturday we spent a full day in Disneyland. It was magical. I will write an entire blog post about the magic later. That is not what this particular blogpost is about, however. This blog post is about the horror, and I'm not talking about the Haunted Mansion.
We arrived home around 12am. I began writing in my journal (still haven't finished that entry) and Sami got ready for a shower. She started rummaging around the room. I looked up from the brilliant prose I was writing to insightfully ask "What's up?" 
She says "I can't find my underwear I wore last night." We proceeded to scour the room for the green chevron undergartments. They are nowhere to be found.
I laughed, because I thought that Sam somehow misplaced her panties. Silly Sami, said I. But then I thought, wouldn't it be weird if mine was missing too? So I looked in my luggage and (you can probably guess) my two pairs of dirty underwear were no where to be found.
At this point, because we are both now missing our britches, I begin to panic. What the hell happened to them? Where could they have possibly gone? I went through every pair of clean underwear I had packed, we checked in every nook and every cranny that that room had. The underwear was gone. 3 pairs, stolen.
Sam called the front desk and asked if it was possible that the cleaning staff had put them in the laundry. They said we had to wait until tomorrow to ask. Sami was embarrassed talking to a stranger about the Case of the Missing Panties, but handled it like a champ.
I continued to search the room. And freak out.
Needless to say we didn't get much sleep that night. I made the mistake at taking a closer look at my bedding, and when I brushed my teeth I ran my toothbrush under the hottest of water. Nothing felt clean.
We went to the front desk the next morning to encounter the most useless concierge in all the land. We never saw his computer screen but were fairly certain that he was playing some form of Candy Crush Saga as he was dealing with us. He kept repeating "I understand" but I really don't think he did understand. Sami handled it calmer than I did, I kept repeating "violated" and "disgusting" and I even threw in "call the authorities" for good measure. Paul (we asked for his name, he wasn't pleased to give it) remained stone faced. He was very unhelpful, but did tell us to come back later after he checked with housekeeping. We asked for a manager, but were told it wouldn't be until the next morning that he would be available.
At this point we went back to the park. Nothing solves utter disgust and terror like a little Disney magic. We stayed until about 3:30 and then headed back to the Days Inn for more "fun".
This was when we encountered a slightly less useless concierge. I didn't ask for his name, but he informed us that the cleaning staff had not cleaned our underwear by accident (which we had already figured on our own) and that again, the manager would be in tomorrow. He got us to write a statement, and offered to refund us our money for the 5 remaining nights. This meant two things, we could leave, but we were also essentially receiving zero compensation. We took it, because we were uncomfortable and unhappy. Our plan is to call and actually speak to the manager in the near future, though I think Sami and I are hesitant to continue dealing with the debacle that is the "Great Panty Crisis of 2015".  
We've found refuge in the Travelodge. It is farther away from the park, but that is the price one pays for peace of mind. It was quite difficult finding a new hotel, because it was so last minute making everything either unavailable or very pricey. We are happy with our new home, and I plan on getting a very good sleep, free of fear that my underwear will be stolen and sold to someone on the internet.
Sami and I have got a great story to tell out of the situation, and the reality is that we are still in Disneyland. We are safe, we are positive, we are surrounded by amazing friends, and we are determined to continue enjoying the magic. All future hotel stays will be graded on a scale from 1-10, 1 being underwear security issues, 10 being full panty safety. 
All who read my blog, heed this warning though, if you stay at the Days Inn Anaheim, lock your underpants in your safe along with your passport.

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