The conference is all done. Going to a conference at the Bellevue Hyatt is like hanging out in a huge gold box. Everything is gold. The walls and carpet, the tablecloths and chairs. All the rooms are named after trees.
When I got to my room, the PAC host was there. I greeted him then set up my computer. A hotel employee came by to see if the room was okay for us. The host said fine. I stopped her for a minute.
“Uh, this is a weird question,” I hedged. Dare I even ask?
“Do you have any chairs that are a little taller?”
My shoulders and back ache mightily after hours of sitting and typing. I’m a bit too short for the tables.
She looked thoughtful.
“Well, let me see…I don’t think so. I could get you a pillow?”
No. Geez. How about a phone book. Maybe a booster seat? Thanks so much! Hi, everyone, I’m a midget. And I’m seven years old!
I took a deep breath.
She left, telling me she’d keep hers eyes open. I can just imagine her coming back with two other chairs. How about this one? Too tall. Or this one? Too short. Where is the just-right one?!
Here’s hoping what happens at the PAC stays at the PAC.