I was not their customer. I was unlikely to become their customer because of their location. They knew it, yet their help went above and beyond any that could have been expected.
The Crown Plaza Hotel came into view just as our car sputtered amongst some of the worst Boston rush hour traffic ever (and, that’s saying A LOT). We limped it off the highway and into the hotel’s parking lot, with only 45 minutes to go before we would miss our flight at Logan International Airport.
I probably looked deranged as I approached the hotel’s registration desk. “We need a cab right now and we need to leave our car in your parking lot for a while.”
The clerk had the phone in his hand before I stopped speaking. “That shouldn’t be a problem,” he said calmly, calming my nerves.
He called someone—perhaps a relative—who was a professional cab driver. “He’ll be here in 10 minutes,” the clerk told me, then he confirmed with his manager that our car would be fine occupying a space in their parking lot for four days, even if we weren’t staying there. The manager came out from her back office to wish us luck.
The cab arrived. The driver knew all the back road tricks to get us through the mass of immovable vehicles. We caught our flight.
The next morning we called the hotel from our distant city. We needed another favor—could someone there meet the tow truck we had arranged and hand the driver our keys which we had left at the hotel registration desk?
Yes. No problem, they said. And they did just as we asked. And our ailing car was safely removed to a repair shop.
Yes. No problem.
My husband and I considered sending flowers to that clerk at the registration desk. Instead, we made a mental note to be sure to seek out a Crown Plaza Hotel, on purpose, the next time we travel.