A guest at the Georgian hotel in Santa Monica wanted a
housecall, said the desk clerk. She had a urine infection.
That was good news. The Georgian was not far, and
urine infections are easy.
“The guest has gone to dinner,” the clerk added.
“She’d like you to come at 9 o’clock.”
I hate it when hotels make an appointment without
consulting me. I want to talk to guests before a visit. They need to know how
much I charge and that they’ll have to pay directly. Learning this, some guests
reconsider. A few guests assume the doctor is in the hotel, so it’s no big deal
if they’re late or decide to skip the consultation entirely. Finally, it’s
stressful to kill time at home, hoping another call doesn’t arrive to
complicate matters.
Sure enough, at 8:30, as I was about to leave, the
phone rang. A guest at the Airport Hilton was vomiting. Vomiters don’t like to
wait. There was no way to contact the Georgian guest to suggest a delay, but I
decided I could make the visit and reach the Hilton in an hour. I hurried off.
Freeway traffic stopped cold at my exit. Santa Monica
was holding an arts festival. The streets were jammed. Normally, I would park and walk the six blocks
to the hotel, but this would make me outrageously late for the poor vomiter at
the Hilton.
Guests usually agree to wait when I explain the problem.
The Georgian guest was back in her room.
“I just flew in from London. There’s no way I can stay
awake,” she said on hearing that I’d like to return later that evening.
In the end, I phoned a prescription for a urine
infection into a nearby pharmacy and then drove to the airport.