Caring for the King

The Airport Marriott is not a hotel that comes to mind at the mention of royalty, but that was where I saw the King of Tonga whose entourage took up the entire top floor.

Tonga is a group of Polynesian islands, an independent country and UN member. It contributed a few dozen troops to President Bush’s “Coalition of the Willing” that invaded Iraq in 2003. It’s also one of the few remaining hereditary monarchies, and the king is a person of influence and great wealth.

Everyone in the room wore Western clothes. The king himself was tall and fat but otherwise unremarkable, and he spoke English. Still, he was a royalty.

I'm Under a Doctor's Care

“I parked illegally, and they towed my car. It’s in an impound lot, and, wouldn’t you know.….”

Tales of misfortune (as opposed to complaints of illness) at one a.m. are a routine tactic of drug abusers.

“…My prescriptions were in the glove compartment. I don’t know when I can get them. I’m under a doctor’s care for….”

I declined his request for Oxycontin. The call had come from the desk clerk who had immediately handed the phone to the guest. As a result, when I hung up, I knew the guest might inform clerk of his disappointment with the hotel doctor. 

Under those circumstances, I phone the clerk and explain that the guest has made a request that I cannot, in good conscience, grant. Remembering his manners, the clerk expressed sympathy, but you never know…. 

Why I Hate Appointments, Part 2

“I need you to look at a rash,” said a Loews guest. “But I have meetings all day and dinner tonight. Could you be at my room at 9?”

He meant 9 p.m. His call arrived at 9 a.m. Appointments more than a few hours ahead end badly more often than not, so I avoid them.

“I’m always available,” I said. “But we’re both busy people. Phone just before you get to your room, and I’ll come over.”

He phoned at 7 p.m. to say he’d be delayed till 10. I waited at home. He phoned at 9:30 to say he was on his way. I arrived at 10. No one answered when I knocked. He appeared at 10:20 with apologies.

As If I Didn't Need Reminding

She was a model, a Ritz-Carlton guest informed me. The previous week she had undergone half a dozen plastic surgery procedures on her buttocks and lower abdomen. Now she needed the sutures removed. After she asked for “an appointment,” I told her when I would arrive. 

“Well… OK….” she said. I could sense her reluctance. She had assumed I’d see her in my office. If guests ask for an office visit, I know colleagues who will accommodate them. But I love visits for suture removals. They’re easy, and guests appreciate the convenience. 

When the door opened, I saw a tall, slim, strikingly beautiful woman who nearly jumped with joy when she saw me. 

“Oh, good!” she exclaimed with relief. “I’m glad you’re not one of those young doctors!”