The Honeymoon Suite

When a closet is the only option...

Bob Smith booked and paid for the hotel for their honeymoon two months in advance.

The Day of Bliss rolled around, and it took the newly married couple three hours to get from the wedding reception to the honeymoon destination. It was now 10 pm.

When the Smiths arrived, Bob went to the front desk still dressed in his tuxedo, collar undone and bow tie removed.

“Reservation for two in your Honeymoon Suite for Smiths.”

“Fine, sir, but it appears you’ve already checked in.”

“What? No I haven’t. I’m here right now,” Smith said.

“According to my records,” Mr. Jamison, Asst Mgr said. “A Mr. and Mrs. Robert Smith checked in five hours ago in the Honeymoon Suite. Do you have your reservation receipt?”

Smith searched through his paperwork. He knew he wouldn’t have tossed it but it was just not there.

“Can’t find it. Got anything else. This is ridiculous.”

“We do have a room but it is no larger than a closet. I’m not sure it’s suitable for a honeymoon suite,” Mr. Jamison said. “It’s the only thing I have open and even that we don’t rent out normally because it’s so tiny.”

“Did this other Bob Smith show you his receipt?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“In other words, no, he didn’t. Am I going to be reimbursed for this room?”

“Sir, without a receipt, there’s no proof that you rented the room. If, however, you have proof, we can make similar accommodations.”

“So, let me get this straight. If I have proof, you have rooms available. If I don’t have proof, you have a closet available.”

“Correct.”

“You don’t see anything wrong with that logic?”

“Sir, if you have reservation receipt…otherwise, we do have the tiny room available.”

Smith turned his head and saw his new bride in the front seat of the car under the awning, smiling and waving at her new groom arranging the next two weeks of their lives.

The clerk quoted him a discounted price for the two weeks, discounted because of the room’s size. Smith had just enough money for the room and food for the two weeks, but not much more. Going to another hotel was out of the question and would not be in his budget. His credit card was maxed out because of all the wedding expenses, so he’d have to use the cash he had.

“We’ll take the closet. How bad can it be?”

Thirty-four years, five kids, and seven grandkids later, they finally dug up the photos of their honeymoon accommodations: two single beds with space to walk between them. Only one person could fit in the shower/toilet room at a time. The clerk wasn’t lying about the tiny room size, but they got it on the cheap.

They never did run into the other Smiths while they were there, but somehow, the newlyweds managed two weeks in their downgraded marital suite.

Somehow.