“All insect bites look the same,” I explained.
Bedbug calls are tricky. Victims are often unwilling to pay. When, confronted by an angry guest, hotels ask my help and offer to pay the fee, I come but refuse to take their money. The hotel will probably comp the guest’s room, and I don’t want to add to their expense and hassle. Also, since a bedbug call involves management, it’s excellent P.R.
Naturally, I hope that a grateful hotel will remember. This doesn’t always work, but I drove off in a good mood. I love nearby hotels, and the Westwood Comstock, which rarely calls, is three miles away. It’s also very exclusive, and my left-wing politics does not diminish the pleasure of caring for hotel guests with plenty of money.
The patient turned out to be more distressed than angry. Sometime guests show me a rash that is obviously not insect bites. Sometimes I see bites confined to the legs, meaning the guest acquired them while erect, perhaps at the beach. There were many bites on her upper body, so I couldn’t deny the possibility of bedbugs.
I delivered my opinion and handed over a free tube of cortisone cream and my business card. Everyone seemed pleased including the general manager who thanked me for my quick response. Now I must wait.