July 13, 2020

 

What a great night’s sleep!  The room was plenty dark.  Those black out curtains work wonders, especially as my window faced east.  I had no idea that I slept until 8am.  Hell, 8am is sleeping in for me.  When you reach my age, 60, it’s hard to change that body clock.  I would love to be able to sleep in when I have nothing going on, but my body won’t let me.  Neither will my brain.  My brain is always churning and I can’t shut it off.  But for some reason, last night, I was able to fall asleep and remain that wall through the entire night.

I turned on my phone to check messages and find out how and when we were to be transported to the Coronado Springs Resort to begin our quarantine.  We were not allowed to be transported until we had received our test results from the previous evening.  If you are negative, you move.  If you are positive, well, I wasn’t quite sure what would happen as the directions we had been given weren’t that clear.  My guess is we would quarantine at the Waldorf until we cleared protocol and could be moved to the Springs.  Now remember, this is only for the green folk, and I am one of them.

I kept checking my phone.  Nothing.  Nothing from BioReference Laboratories, the company tasked with our testing, nothing from Turner regarding transport to Coronado Springs.  I began to feel a bit uneasy not getting information.  We weren’t supposed to leave our rooms, we were supposed to sit and wait for direction.  But I’m not getting any information.  What the hell is going on?  Somebody just send me something, anything, so at least I know I am still on the grid and the powers that be are aware that I am here in Orlando awaiting further instruction.

Kelly calls me and asks if I am getting breakfast.  I am not hungry at all so I pass.  It would have to be room service anyway.  Have you checked out the room service menu at a Waldorf?  There goes my per diem, all before noon!  Luckily I don’t have to get anything.  The coffee in the room along with the snacks that my wife bought for me, are able to tide me over, at least for the time being.

Now is a nice time to get my daily pub ownership work done.  Fill out my profit and loss, order beer, check time cards, download receipts and invoices, up-date Quickbooks.  I remember when we first opened the pub a little over two and half years ago, these tasks were laborious.  Now I just breeze through them in a matter of minutes.  Repetition, repetition, repetition.  I just wish the profit margin was larger than I report each morning.  COVID is taking its toll everywhere, but somehow, our little pub in Oro Valley, AZ is able to maintain and keep everyone employed.  Sure, we are taking a hit, but I think we have the customer base to make it through this pandemic.  Others haven’t been so fortunate.  Fingers crossed…

It’s nice listening to the music in the room.  That’s one of the first things I do when I get into my hotel room.  I unpack all my suitcases, (I didn’t do that here because I’m only here for one night) set up my computer, plug in my phone, Ipad, and any other devices that need to be charged, and get the JBL Charge 3 connected to the computer.  Pandora is a wonderful thing.  I have quite an extensive variety built and I just place it on shuffle. Who knows what might come on, anything from 80’s rock, Genesis radio, current hits, Yanni, heck, even the soundtrack from Les Miserables.  I think I have about 50 genres picked out and I enjoy all of them.

It’s two o’clock and still no information.  Nothing from my test, nothing from Turner about next steps, and I still haven’ eaten.  I’m good though.  My body clock is still on Arizona time so really it’s only 11 am in my stomach.  And, at home, I usually don’t eat anything until the early afternoon anyway, aside from the cookies I share with my dogs. Kelly calls me again wanting to know if I want to get lunch.  That guy is a bottomless pit.  Eats at all hours of the day, and is still hungry.  I can’t do that anymore.  When I was his age, he’s 37, I could do that.  No more.  My portions are small and far between, and lord, don’t make me eat after 7pm.  If that happens, I’m up all night with gastric issues and heartburn.  Then I can’t sleep.  Then I’m miserable the next day.  I love aging.

I kill a couple more episodes of “The Politician” on Netflix.  I check my phone.  I have nothing.  I haven’t received anything from anyone regarding my situation.  Am I positive?  Do I have COVID?  Am I going to the Coronado Springs Resort?  If I am, when, and how?  I am not a good “in limbo” guy.  I need structure.  Give me structure.  Then I know what to do with the rest of my time.  And I’m in a hotel room. Not much I can do anyway, but I will find something to do.  Just let me know how much time I have so I can do it.

Finally around 5pm I am getting hungry.  I suggest to Kelly and Ted that we get back on the COVID test shuttle, act like we are going to get our tests, then go back to that restaurant and have dinner.  It’s better than blowing a wad of cash here at the Waldorf.  Or we could go to Freddy’s and get a fat, juicy burger and fries.  What a great idea they both said.  I told them I would meet them in the lobby at 5:25 and we would catch the 5:30.  Ted balks at going, so he is out.  I go downstairs and things are different.  There are monitors in the lobby taking people’s temperature, and the place is empty.  Do I dare try to sneak away for a cheap meal?  What if what I am doing violates protocol?  What if I get busted and sent home?  I see Kelly and we both decide, yeah, this isn’t worth the risk.  So we head out to the pool area where we can dine outside and at least put something in our stomachs.

It’s happy hour so I order an IPA and a chicken sandwich.  Kelly orders chicken fingers to go, anticipating he can take them with him when, and if, we are moved to Coronado Springs.  He orders a lager.  He’s not a big IPA fan.  Both of us are concerned about the lack of communication.  A fellah from the Memphis Grizzlies overhears our conversation, and he forwards to us information on how to sign up for immediate results from BioReference so at least we know if we are negative or not.  Boom, in a matter of minutes we are on their website and we are both negative.  Yeah! Another IPA for me!

We still don’t know how or when we are to go to Coronado Springs, but at least we knew that we couldn’t move there until we got our negative test results.  Well, we did.  Now what?

Ted finally joins us down by the pool and he is trying to strategize how he can order food at precisely the right time so he can eat it as late as possible for this will be his last meal of the day.  He too will be joining us at the Springs, and is concerned that he won’t be able to get food over there later tonight (he won’t).  He orders the chicken sandwich as well, and we show him how to get his test results.  He overheard that there are shuttles that run every half hour starting at 6pm to Coronado Springs.  We are getting this information second hand, but at least it is information. Ted is negative as well, so that warrants yet another IPA for me!

We agree to hop on the 8pm shuttle to Coronado Springs because we are all negative, we have proof, and we may as well get settled at our new home for the next 80 days.  Mind you, we have not received information to do so, but we have been told by others that this is the process.  What the hell, let’s get out of here and get over to the Disney Resort.  We pay our waitress, tip her nicely as the hotel area is pretty vacant and most of the television crew that is staying there aren’t spending anything.  We, as a group, are rather frugal, but that’s another story.

It’s 8pm and the shuttle leaves precisely at 8pm.  The three of us are the only ones on the bus, not including the driver.  We were told that we need to show proof of our test result in order to check in to our destination.  We all have screen shots on our phones so we can prove that we are three healthy, COVID free dudes.  The trip to the resort only takes about 15 minutes, and as we pull into the parking lot to get to the lobby, the place looks deserted.  This resort looked familiar to me, then, I remembered.  I had stayed there during a retreat when I worked at Raytheon.  It was one of those feel good, team building, learn to get in touch with yourself boondoggles that are rampant in the corporate world.  When I was here for that, the place was bustling with people, the parking lot was filled to capacity, excitement filled the air, like a Disney resort is supposed to be.  I completely do not recall anything from that retreat.  Take note corporations…those things are a complete waste of time and money.

Anyway, we retrieve our bags and enter the lobby to check in.  There are several tables lined up:  A through E, F through J, etc., until the alphabet is complete.  I find my table, state my name, and I am given a packet for my room.  No ID check, no proof of a negative test, no credit card for incidentals.  Whoa!  That was the easiest, fastest check in I have ever encountered.  Major trust was placed that I was who I said I was, that I actually belonged.  I was given a green wristband to wear until I completed my 7 days of isolation, then they carted me to my room.  I liked the idea they didn’t ask for a credit card, but was a bit dubious regarding the lack of ID check and proof of a negative test.  Perhaps things will get more stringent as we move along.

Keep in mind, yesterday, over 300 bubble folk (is that what we are called?) arrived in Orlando.  Some were destined to be red, some yellow, and some, like me, green. That’s a lot of people to process and nobody could have gotten to Coronado Springs unless they passed some sort of protocol.  That fact that I was able to check in so quickly really didn’t concern me.  It just seemed weird, but I was okay with it.

The shuttle driver dropped me off at my building after dropping off Ted and Kelly.  Casita 3143.  Nice, it’s a ground floor room.  I don’t have to lug a bunch of luggage upstairs.  The building is only three stories and if I was on the second or third floor, I would have walked up.  Elevators are for wussies if only 2 floors are involved.  Don’t you know that?

As I am walking to my room I pass the workout facility.  Hello old friend…I will see you in a week.  It is close by so when I am free to exercise, I will be there every morning.  At least I hope to be there every morning. I will try to get there every morning.

I enter my room.  It’s no Waldorf Astoria, but it will do just fine.  There was a case of water on the floor, about 30 cans and bottles of soft drinks, energy drinks, and enough coffee for the Keurig to last me through Christmas.  In addition, two double beds, a shower, (no tub) NBA themed masks, mouthwash, soap, lotion, and dispensers in the showers with shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. I am good to go.  I don’t need anything else but to unpack and get my room in order like my wife taught me.

I really appreciate how Deidre taught me to keep my room in order.  A clean room is a happy room.  (You can use that phrase for everything!  Just substitute “room” with any other noun)  I place my shirts in one drawer, shorts in another, underwear and socks in another, everything else in the leftover drawers.  I place my toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, cologne (which I will not need), dental floss, Ibuprofen, and Icy-Hot neatly upon the counter on a wash cloth.  My room is always neatly kept, the envy of all the other travelers.  Actually, they don’t give a shit.  They ridicule me when they see it.  But they won’t be able to see it on this trip!

There’s a knock on my door. COVID test time.  Open your mouth, swab swab, up your nose, swab swab.  All done.  Easy peasy.

Good night.  I’m beat.  It’s been a long day, but the night will be longer.  Those damn three IPA’s are coming back to haunt me!  I didn’t pack any Tums…