We went to Atlantic City for our 8th anniversary last month, and stayed at Harrah’s. We got a nice room, played black jack, had dinner, and then went to watch a show. It was all good until we were escorted to our seats in the theater; I was holding onto a railing, walking up the stairs, and suddenly my head was hit from above. There was a concrete overhand along the wall above the staircase, and I was safely walking up the steps below it, and then at one point I no longer fit underneath, and unknowingly stepped right up into it. Man that hurt like hell. I just stood there for a while trying to recover, then the usher sat us. Lou didn’t like the table, which was far back, even though there were plenty of open tables closer and toward the center. So the usher moved us to better seats. My head was killing me, and I still had tears, so I told Lou I needed to get some Tylenol or something. I went to the usher again and asked where I could get something for my headache. He had me wait by the entrance to be escorted to the hotel’s medical station. They looked me over for signs of a concussion and filled out a report before they would give me any Tylenol. I returned to the theater and stayed for the show, but for some reason I couldn’t stop crying throughout the whole thing. Not blubbering or anything like that, just silent tears kept dripping down my face. I felt like a child. The next day, my head was throbbing, and I really didn’t want to drive home, so we tried to get the room for another night. They said they were booked up, and couldn’t do anything for us. I’m sure they had rooms put aside for entertaining high rollers and those who have more money than brains to stop gambling. But there was no room for us, despite the facts that I was hurt and we were willing to pay. And there was no apology for the incident either. We had a lengthy argument with a manager in the lobby and ended up having to drive home after all. A couple days later, my neck got really stiff, and the headaches got worse. Now I have a stupid neck brace collar, and have to go to physical therapy.
I recently took a trip to Florida for work, which was fun. I’m working on setting up personal computer systems for the field sales organizations, and Orlando is my pilot site. I didn’t realize just how hot it would be in the summer though. I went to Disney by myself, which I thought might be awkward, but turned out to be fine, except that I got really burned. I couldn’t go on anything but the kiddy rides though, because of my neck injury.
Once again, Wharton didn’t accept me, but did put me on their waiting list, and now have me on their summer waiting list. It’s like when I really wanted something and my parents said, “we’ll see.” I knew that meant more likely an eventual “no” than a “yes” but it was better than outright rejection. My fingers are crossed for delayed gratification.