1st Day, Part 2: Hotel Apr 30, 2007 13:18:54 GMT 1
Post by Club Fans Jaime Camil España on Apr 30, 2007 13:18:54 GMT 1
Thanks Jo Anne...for the translation
We arrive at our hotel in a mood of total disbelief. This has to be some out-of-body experience!
After an insignificant nap of 90 minutes, hardly enough to recover from our sleepless night, we gather at command central, Presi Esme’s room.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007, 8:45 p.m.
We decide to put in a call to Claudia, Jaime’s assistant. But first I had to fight with my cell phone; it’s Spanish and is having a hard time communicating in this French airspace. We still need to confirm with Claudia where the location shoots are to be tomorrow.
Reaching the French-speaking receptionist, I ask to be connected to Claudia Garcia’s room. He says he has no one by that name registered. Our information was that the reservations had been name under her name. Thinking maybe this guy doesn’t understand, I start spelling out her name. No response! This guy is none too friendly. What to do?
I decide to try again, but they still couldn’t find her reservation. In a flash of Camil Intuition, I ask for “et monsieur Camil?” Waiting patiently while the reception looks again, he says, “Next time, ask for room 611.” Before I have a chance to say anything, he connects me. A suspiciously familiar voice answers, “Yes?”
I just died, that snotty receptionist had rung Jaime’s room, without a word to me!
“Hello, it’s Esme.” I say. All the girls are saying, “Who is it? Who are you talking to?” In full control now, I reply “With Jaime.” To Jaime I say “Excuse me, but the girls wanted to know who I was talking to.”
“I was just going to sleep,” Jaime says, “jet lag and all. Everyone else went to a pizza place close by, but I didn’t feel like having pizza. You can see Claudia over there and lock down the plans for tomorrow. She already bought her card from FNAC for mobile service while in France.”
“But, Jaime,” I answer, “we’re not at the same hotel.”
“Sorry,” Jaime tells me, “OK, let’s do this, leave your number with reception and I’ll have Claudia call you guys in the morning. I’m going right to sleep now.”
“That’s a great idea, we’ll do that.” I say, “Sorry to have bothered you. Good night.”
“You all have a good night,” Jaime replies, “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale! You’re gonna make it, girl! After I explain to the rest of the team, I dial the hotel again. The same brainless wonder tries to connect me to Jaime’s room again. No way was I going to bother Jaime again. He needs his sleep. Heaven only knows how long his flight was.
I’m beginning to hyperventilate. It’s a good thing that the receptionist was nowhere near us; otherwise he’d have been a dead man. I realize that I don’t need to leave a message, I have all the information we need: Room number, hotel address. I’m afraid he’s gonna think we’re some kind of psychopaths and fear for his safety. Nothing could be further from the truth. Tomorrow we’ll have our opportunity to assure our President that we are harmless little Spanish girls. We know he’s there to work, we’ll behave, please don’t send us to jail for stalking. Rest assured, I didn’t mean it, I swear!
We make the much more sensible decision to go early to Jaime’s hotel and leave our message in person. Then, we could play tourist until we hear from Claudia. As we discuss this option, I observe, “What if we run into Jaime at the hotel? He’s sure to ask why we didn’t leave a message with reception like he said.”
Thinking about all that had happened, I fall into a short, profound sleep.
End of day one.