Almost sleepless in St. Louis

Published May 7, 2007

The plane was about to land in St. Louis.
The muffled voice of a flight attendant was coming in over the music on my iPod. I pulled out my earplugs, and yep, the mom behind me was still loudly encouraging her baby to continue his squealing.
I was that cranky business traveler unnerved by an assuredly first-time mom and her assuredly adorable baby.
I unfolded myself and got off the plane.
I had come to the Gateway to the West for a newspaper conference that was being held in a hotel right across the Mississippi River from the famous shiny 630-foot arch.
The hotel had two round towers, a tall skinny one and a short squatty one. I checked in, and the clerk pointed me toward the short squatty tower.
With my laptop and my carry-on on my left shoulder and my large rolling suitcase in my right hand, I went looking for my third-floor room.
The circular tower was set up so that the core was open from floor to ceiling. I got off the elevator and circled around until I found my room.
I was so anxious to see the arch, I let all my bags fall when I got into the room and ran over to the window.
I looked out. There was an arch, all right, the slight arch of a rather ugly bridge beyond the brick walls of rather ugly buildings.
Oh, well. I won't be in the room much anyway, I thought.
Might as well take a quick shower. I went in the bathroom, only to find a pool of water standing over what appeared to be a clogged tub drain.
Back to the front desk.
"My tub is clogged," I quietly told the desk clerk.
"Oh, there are always drainage problems over there. I'll put you on a higher floor. Those seem better," she told me.
Dreaming of my new room on the fifth floor - this one surely with a view of the arch - I hauled my repacked bags out of my room - and into the roar of dozens of teenagers pouring into the common area of the tower. A man was telling them to go find their rooms.
When the elevator came, about 10 of these teenagers dashed past me. I got in, looked at the "5" button but pushed "1."
Back to the front desk.
"Um," I said to the clerk who had accommodated me earlier, "there seems to be about 500 children in my tower."
"They're here for a retreat," she said.
I found myself wishing for the single noisy baby on the airplane.
I walked away. I had to think. I had to figure out if I was being difficult or if I was entitled to not only a tub with a working drain but also some peace and quiet.
Ten minutes of pacing in front of the hotel convinced me.
I went back to the front desk and chose another desk clerk. I explained - nicely - what I had been through. He not only put me in another room in the other tower, he also gave me some coupons for free cocktails.
I was tired as I got in an elevator for the third time. I had no expectations as I pushed "17" and the elevator carried me up.
I slid the card into the slot on my door and pushed it open.
There, before my eyes, stood the great arch. I walked over to the window and pulled the sheer drapes. Wow. What a view. I looked around. Wow. What a room.
Now this was the kind of place a girl from out of town could sleep in.