One of the things I love most about the company I work
for, is they are willing to send me to training classes for my job. Since I’ve
been here, I’ve been afforded the opportunity to obtain certifications in my
job field each year. Since I don’t much care to travel, I usually look for
trainings in Reno, since it’s just a short drive. I like the convenience of
staying at the hotel across the street from my training center so I don’t have
to drive anywhere.
This year, unfortunately, the certification class I
wanted to take wasn’t available in Reno. The closest city they offered the
training was San Diego. I was actually a little bit excited since I hadn’t been
to San Diego since I was very young. The initial class I signed up for was for
back in August, but got cancelled. The company offering the training
rescheduled me for October 1 – 5th. That was a minor inconvenience,
but I just rolled with it. We were able to get my flights changed, but the
hotel next door to the training center was already booked for that week. That
meant I would need to stay in another hotel much further away. Since I didn’t
want to deal with a rental car, I made the decision to still walk to my classes
each day. It amounted to about a 15 minute walk, but it was worth it to
me.
My journey began Sunday morning. My flight was to
leave Reno at 10:50, arrive in Las Vegas around noon, change planes, leave
Vegas at 2:00, and arrive in San Diego around 3:00. The first hiccup occurred in
Las Vegas. All flights going out were delayed for, what I’m told, the President
being in town. I was finally able to leave Las Vegas around 3:00, so it was
about a 3 hour layover. I landed in San Diego around 4:00, collected my bag and
quickly found a shuttle service. There was a line of vans, and I just grabbed
the first one I came to. The fact that I didn’t bother to take note of any
details of that shuttle would prove to be a mistake later on.
I was the only passenger on this particular trip, so
I got to visit with the driver quite a bit. I told him what I was in town for,
and he told me about the different local attractions in my area. As we arrived
at my hotel, I paid him in cash, and he got out to grab my bag. I thanked him for the useful information and
proceeded to my hotel. I approached the front desk and gave the lady my name to
check in. She then asked for a photo ID. That was when one of the worst
feelings came over me as I realized I was no longer in possession of my wallet.
Since I paid the shuttle driver with cash that was in my wallet, I at least
knew I had it in the shuttle. I quickly ran out to the curb, but the driver was
already gone. I did a quick search of the gutter and street in case I had
dropped it out of the van, but it was nowhere to be found.
I let the lady at the desk know what my situation
was, and she graciously allowed me to check in without my ID. After I got
checked in, I talked with the concierge who let me use their computer to
contact the different shuttle companies. I couldn’t remember the name of the
service, the name of the driver, or even what color van it was. The concierge
contacted the surveillance department to see if they had any footage of the
van. Unfortunately, the closest camera coverage was from inside the hotel
lobby, and the only thing they could tell was that it appeared to be a dark
colored van (the camera had a partial view of the front window). They could
not, however, read the name on the shuttle. I went through the list of shuttle
services and contacted each one to file a lost and found report. All I could do
now was hope that the driver found it and return it to me, or that one of the
companies would call me back. Until then, I was without cash, credit cards or
ID.
Since my company had authorized me to charge
incidentals to my room, I would at least be able to eat at the restaurant and
charge it to my room.
By the time I got done making all my phone calls, got
showered and changed my clothes, it was getting a bit late. I hadn’t eaten
anything since I was in Las Vegas, so I decided to stop by the restaurant. I
approached the bar and explained my situation to the bartender. He was very
nice, and told me it wouldn’t be a problem. He allowed me to order a much
needed beer while I looked over the menu. I settled on the recommended brisket
grilled cheese sandwich, finished my beer and ordered another. It was during
that second beer that the bartender returned with a regrettable look on his
face. Afraid he was going to tell me I couldn’t charge drinks to my room, I
started chugging that beer before he had a chance to snatch it from my hands. “Sir, I feel horrible to tell you this, but
the kitchen has closed for the evening”. I began to ease up on my brew, but
only slightly. The bartender appeared sincerely sorry, especially after I had
told him this was the only place I would be able to eat until the morning. I
asked if I could possibly nibble on some olives or maybe a cocktail onion, but I
think he thought I was joking as he just chuckled and apologized again. After
having had a few beers, genius struck me as it normally does after a few beers,
and in an attempt to outsmart the bartender, I ordered a martini. It came with
an inedible orange rind. By then, not only had I racked up quite a bar tab, but
I was having trouble intelligibly communicating other drinks that may contain
food, so I decided to pack it in for the night.
On my way out of the restaurant, I noticed a small
community had formed on the sidewalks up and down the street. There were tents,
blankets, shopping carts, and most notably, homeless people. The restaurant was
actually connected to the hotel, so the front doors weren’t more than 20 feet
apart, yet somehow, in that 20 feet I met a vagrant. He politely asked me for
change, and already having had my lips loosened by a few drinks, I proceeded to
tell him my entire story, and therefore why I only had 68 cents in my pocket. I
did give it to him though because…well, I hate having change in my pocket, and
it wasn’t going to do me a damn bit of good. I’m sure the story took only a few
minutes to tell, and my memory is a bit hazy after those drinks on an empty
stomach, but it seemed like I was talking with this guy for quite some time. At
the end of it, he offered me his roast beef sandwich. I told him I would be
fine, thanked him just the same and returned to my room.
I woke up Monday morning ready to go to class and
reeling a bit from the drinks the night before. The continental breakfast no
longer sounded appetizing, so I decided to skip it. I grabbed a quick shower,
drank some water and set out on my 12 block journey to my training. The walk
itself was actually a lot shorter than I thought it would be, and was not
unpleasant at all. I arrived at the building, and reached the floor I was
supposed to be on. Once I arrived, I notified the lady at the front desk I was
there for my computer security class. There was no computer security class. I
just laughed, and asked if I could take a look down the hall, which she let me
do. I was able to find a server/datacenter room and asked the guy if he knew
about my class. He said he didn’t, but he knew the company that was supposed to
put it on. He called the company for me, and I was able to talk to the
representative, who then says “Oh…you didn’t get my email? That class has been
canceled”. I thanked him and hung up. I had no ID, no money, and now no
training course. I began my walk back to my hotel room.
The rest of the day was filled pretty much spent on
the phone with my work as they were trying to figure out how to get me home
without an ID. Annie’s boss did the research and found that since Annie had a
passport, a social security card, and a birth certificate, she could fax it to
the airport, and I would only have to go through additional security, but would
be able to board the plane. It was actually really cool that my company was
handling it like they were, and mostly that it was HR taking care of it. They
were also going to wire me some more money. Things were starting to look up. I
just needed to have the front desk print out the documents for me, and I should
be home free.
About then, my hotel phone rang. Thinking it would
be the front desk telling me my documents were ready, I answered. A gruff voice
on the other end spoke. The conversation went like this:
Me:
Hello?
Voice:
Jeffrey.
(Ok, not the front desk)
Me:
Hey.
Voice:
How are you?
Me:
I’m doing good, how about you?
Voice:
Are you sure?
(Oh no, did I give that homeless man my
room number?)
Me:
Yeah, not bad at all.
Voice:
You didn’t lose your wallet?
(I told that homeless man I lost my
wallet, this is the homeless man. Damnit, now he’s rubbing it in too.)
Me:
Oh, yeah, I did do that.
Voice:
Well, I have it.
(No!
This is the shuttle driver! I can tell by his accent now!)
Me:
You.have.to.be.joking.
Voice:
Ha ha, not at all. I’m downstairs.
Me:
I’ll be right there!
I
got downstairs and noticed the man parked across the street. I ran across and
he told me another passenger found my wallet. He went through it to see if
there were any clues as to how to contact me. He then remembered me from the
day before and dropping me off at my hotel. He must have called the front desk,
and they transferred him to me. I opened the wallet, and everything, including
all of my cash, was in there. I thanked him many times, gave him a 20, and
hurried to let everyone know that I had my wallet back.
From
that point on, everything went smooth. I was able to get on my plane, and made
it home by 8:30 that evening.
When
I returned to work today, I was greeted with this flyer:
