If you ever happen to be traveling in southern California and find yourself in Newport Beach, and you think, I'd really like to stay in a Marriott tonight...slap yourself upside the head with a roll of wet toilet paper.
Evidently they were just remodeled and the place does look fabulous. And then someone opens their mouth and you want to shove a sharp pencil in your eye. My experience started with simply being ignored, ranged into various forms of wasting my time and mistreatment, bumbled through ignorance and was polished off with threats from a front-desk peon. This of course warranted a discussion with one of the directors of the establishment who was, of course, shocked to hear how I had been treated. Of course, he didn't actually DO anything to make me happier, but he was very nice about it.
As an uber-platinum member with hundreds of thousands of miles and more than a hundred nights a year in Marriott hotels, you would think my loyalty would merit a little special treatment. But evidently this is California and they just don't do that here.
[Editors note: a nice little plate of fruit and cheese with a card did find it's way into my room later that night. It's the same stuff I'd just had in the Club Lounge, but I suppose it's the thought that counts, right?]
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