Probably my only update in this TR that comes without photos....bear with me....
After we dragged ourselves out of the hot tub, we returned to our room to ready ourselves for an early lights-out. We had a 5 am wake-up call arranged with the front desk, so we wanted to be in bed and at least attempting to sleep (excitement often negates our best intentions!) by 10:30 pm or so. We hung our swimsuits on the shower curtain rod to dry, set our clothing out for the next morning, and settled into bed by 9-ish to watch some Family Guy episodes before drifting off to dreamland. As soon as we were comfortably under the covers and Stewie Griffin was on the TV, Jake says to us.....
Ugh, can you smell that?
We sniffed the air. Smell what?
That’s weed. Someone is smoking pot.
I raise an eyebrow in his direction.
Geez mom, I’m in college. Just because I know what it smells like doesn’t mean that I’ve ever smoked it!!
We tell him he’s crazy and return our focus to the Family Guy marathon. The noise from 114 began almost immediately thereafter.
Initially, it was a lot of door slamming and banging against the wall. Considering it was reasonably early, we gave the occupants the benefit of the doubt and assumed that a less-than-coordinated family was simply moving their things, albeit roughly, into the room. The shouting and laughing would surely certainly cease as they noted the time.
The minutes wore on, one Family Guy episode transitioned to the next, and the occupants of room 114 steadily escalated to an excessive loudness. With my boys growing steadily more annoyed, I called the front desk and requested that they intervene and advise the rowdy crew to tone it down. They assured me they would remedy the racket, and wished us a good night.
Then.....it got worse

.
At 11:10 pm, I changed out of my PJ’s and back into my clothes and decided to make a personal visit to the front desk rather than a second call. Since we were on the main floor, I thought it would be easier (and perhaps have more impact) if I spoke with the night staff in person. “Shawn” at the front desk apologized and said they would request again that the noise cease immediately. I returned to our room, changed back into my PJ’s, and settled back into bed with the best intentions of sleep.
That first call to the desk staff, I was very patient. When the initial visit to the front desk became necessary, I was irritated but still calm and reasonable. At 11:40, when a second re-dressing and pilgrimage to the front desk was warranted, I was very much annoyed. But at 12:10, when the screaming/banging/howling became unbearable and our room became filled with marijuana smoke, I marched down to the front desk for the third and final time and DEMANDED

that Shawn accompany me back to the hallway to smell the stench that was now permeating the entire area. I don’t know if it was my tone, the fact that my hair was likely sticking up in every different direction, or the fact that I was apparently looking at him with my “death glare” (according to Jake), but Shawn came out from behind that counter without delay and began issuing rapid fire apologies before we even reached our hall. Steve was a few steps behind me (he had stopped to put on pants, at Jake’s suggestion

) but thankfully I didn’t need the back up.
Mercifully and finally, Shawn had the courage to summon the police (cue the hallelujah from the choir!

), the occupants were removed from the property, and he delivered a smoke eater to our room to help remedy the air quality. By this time, you could cut the smoke in our room with a knife. We had watched 1 am long since come and go on the clock and we were keyed up and wide awake with a bad case of the giggles. What a start this vacation was off to!
It was evident that we would need some assistance to sleep, so I handed out a round of Gravol to each of us knowing it would knock us out within 20 minutes to half an hour. Tucked securely back into bed, I heard Jake start snoring softly first, then Steve joined the chorus. Relieved to know that my fellows were finally resting comfortably, I flaked out shortly thereafter.
The alarm on Jake’s iPhone 6+ went off much, much too soon.
In my groggy, Gravol-induced slumber, I reached over to hit the snooze button and managed to tip a cup of water (left on the bedside table from the night before’s Gravol dosing) right over on his phone

. I flipped on the light, frantically grabbed the phone (the only one we were travelling with!!) and immediately removed the case so I could dry it thoroughly with a towel from the bathroom. With the boys now fully awake and running hither and yon to assist, we heaved a collective sigh of relief as the phone appeared to suffer no ill effects from its early morning soaking. Crisis averted

.
We each showered, dressed, packed and locked the suitcases, then headed to the lobby to grab breakfast and arrange for a shuttle to the airport. I approached Shawn at the front desk to finalize our check out, and he barely looked me in the eye as he quietly told me he had comped the room as a result of last night’s “inconvenience”. I took the opportunity to cancel our April reservation (sometime around 1 am that morning, the guys and I vowed to never step foot in the hotel again....remember that this was the second sleepless night at this property for Steve and I due to rowdiness in as many trips), took my receipt showing the refund of the pre-paid charges for this stay, and joined the boys in the breakfast room.
A kind older lady tapped me on the shoulder as I made my way to our table.
“Sweetheart? You have a sticker on your pants. I thought you might want to take it off before you head to the airport” (yep, I was wearing a pair of brand new jeans and the size sticker was noticeable to everyone but my travelling companions apparently!). I shot Steve and Jake the death glare and hissed
“why didn’t you tell me there was a sticker on the back of my butt?”. They peered at me through puffy, slitted eyes and innocently claimed sleep deprivation. Sigh

.
I wasn’t hungry, but knew I had to eat something to ensure my stomach didn’t roll over from emptiness at 40,000 feet. I grabbed a slice of toast and a glass of milk, but somehow ended up with a gob of peanut butter in my freshly washed hair. Steve worked hard to control his laughter as he dutifully grabbed a clean napkin and began the arduous process of removing it as delicately as possible. At that point in the morning our magical Christmas trip was beginning to feel like a National Lampoon’s sequel

.
Looking VERY forward to leaving this disaster of hotel stay behind, we nearly danced onto the shuttle and had to stop ourselves from cheering as the van started in the direction of the airport. We were on our way, and the excitement was building. Well, it would be anyway.....once we were fully awake

.