My Trip to Chattanooga

I was pretty sure I was in a Peter Sellers movie yesterday.

As you may know, I left immediately after the Late Service for Chattanooga, TN, to attend a Precepts Bible Study Training camp (more on that tomorrow).

On my way down, I was using my GPS function on my phone which is pretty reliable….if you listen to what it says. Being a geographical genius, I somehow convinced myself that Tennessee had been mysteriously relocated to the west. Instead of following my GPS straight down RT 81 S, I went west on RT 64. It took me few miles to determine that it wasn’t my phone that was confused….it was me!

After a short detour, I was back on track and able to continue misreading my little hand help map. According to my interpretation, Chattanooga was just off 81 S. I was near the end of my trip, totally convinced that I had just taken a 9 hour trip in 5 hours, ready to check into my room and kick back. As I exited 81, I heard my little assistant say, “Go 60 miles and turn left.” 60 miles? This phone is an idiot! I can’t be 60 miles away! I pulled over scanned the horizon for the Chattanooga skyline and quickly determined that something was amiss (crickets chirping in the background, a sure sign that you're not in the middle of metropolitan Chattanooga.) I looked carefully at my phone and found out I was still 208 miles from Chattanooga! What a let down! I called the hotel and spoke to a very nice lady named Evan, telling her I would be late. She assured me my room was guaranteed and being late was not a problem.

She was right.

It was not a problem.....for her but it was for me. When I got there, the young lady at the desk cheerfully told me my room, the one with the mini fridge and microwave, had been given to someone else because I was late. I said, “But, I called to tell them.” She said, “You have to speak to the reservations manager to arrange for a late arrival.” Looking down at her name tag…….E-v-a-n……I said, “You were the one I spoke with.” She responded with, “But I am not the reservations manager.”

It took about 15 minutes to sort things out and get me into another wrongly appointed room which they assured me would be squared away sometime the next day by the mysteriously absent reservations manager. I unpacked, marginally, in anticipation of moving again the next day.

I called the front desk to leave a wake up call. The operator answered, “Good evening. This is Evan. Can I help you?” I said, “No thanks.” And set my alarm on my phone. Hmmmm.....