The spot where we erect our picnic table every New Year’s Eve is right next to the Hilton Hotel, so when we need to go to the bathroom, we just avail ourselves of the Hilton’s facilities. When I’m in a city and need to go, that’s what I always do. After all, big hotels have lots of people passing through, and they never ask who you are or why you are there. The public areas are, well, public. So we always treat the Hilton’s public washroom as our own.
At least we used to. This year, probably because of Covid although I’m not sure about that, things had changed. Someone told us they wouldn’t let us do it this year, but Venetia and I decided to give it our best shot, even if we had to perpetrate a con to make it work.
We walked through the revolving doors, and immediately a man in a dark suit and bow tie was in front of us. The conversation was in Spanish, of course, but this is the gist.
“Good evening, ladies. Happy New Year. Do you have a reservation?”
“Same to you. No, we don’t have a reservation, but we are meeting a friend here.”
“I’m sorry but you can’t come in unless you are a guest.”
“But our friend is a guest.”
“What is you friend’s name?”
“Rodrigo Vespucci.” Don’t ask—I don’t know where it came from either but that’s what popped into my head.
“Rodrigo Vespucci?”
“Yes.”
“One moment, please. I will check the register.”
So he went off to check the register—and Venetia and I went to the bathroom. Mission accomplished!
But when we came out, I could see him hovering a few yards away. We were passing the bar, which was very busy.
“Look as if we’re looking for somebody.”
We both craned our necks looking for an imaginary Rodrigo in the bar, but the man was clearly not fooled. As he spoke, he was slowly edging us towards the door.
“Unfortunately we have no Rodrigo Vespucci registered with the hotel. I’m sorry but you’ll have to leave.”
Venetia, looking as if she’d suddenly had a realization, said in English,
“Maybe it was a different hotel.”
“Maybe.”
The guy was definitely not buying any of this, but at least he didn’t throw us out on our ear.
“I’m sorry to have troubled you,” I said, “Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year to you too — goodnight.”
We’ll have to have a different plan for next year, as I don’t think we could get away with this twice. Especially not with Rodrigo Vespucci!”