NYC Part #1, a.k.a. Why we asked the Front Desk if we could Smell a Hotel Room

By the time you read this, I'll be in Disneyland. Next to a kid. Who will probably be puking his guts out. 

But before I regale you with tales from SoCal, I have to catch you up with tales of the Garden of the NorEast. Is that how the people "in the know" refer to New York City? Or did that homeless guy on the corner of 41st and 6th Ave steer me wrong? He also sold me tickets to the hottest, newest Broadway show called How To Succeed at the Book of Mormon Without Really Trying... Wickedly.

We couldn't ever find the theater. I think we were had.

Our first night there, we met up with a lovely bunch of bloggers, left over from BEA. (Book Expo America).   
Book Bloggers: Stacey (Pageturners) , Emily (Em's Reading Room), Emily Wing Smith (author), me, Lynsey, Pixie (Pageturners), Bree Despain (author) and Waste Paper Prose's Sara. 
This was also our first attempt to find the Perfect Cupcake. We attempted this feat several times. A day. It was a challenge. But our muffin-tops were up to the task!
This was my plate.
New York was hot. And not "hawt", but hot and muggy. And boy does New York get muggy, which is okay because when I sweat, I look like this:
It's weird too, because I started out in jeans and a t-shirt.

Our hotel room had a slight mildew smell to it, so we called down to the desk to see if we could get another room.

Desk guy: "We do have an extra room. On the 30th floor. Do you want it?"

me (after deliberating with Bree and Emily for a few minutes): "Can we smell it before we commit?"

This seemed to be a reasonable request.

A guy named Juan escorts us to the 30th floor, so we can run a test smell. But when we get to the door, it only opens an inch before the security bar inside the room catches. 

Juan knocks softly. "Danielle? We are coming in..." he whispers.

The three of us exchange glances. 

Juan waits for a moment, then unlocks the door again. This time, it opens all the way. He ushers us in, and then rushes in to smooth out a few wrinkles in one of the beds. 

The door to the bathroom is slightly ajar. 

Juan: "So, how does it smell?"

We're all looking at each other like, "Silly Juan. Who cares how it smells? What we all want to know is, who is Danielle, and why is she hiding somewhere in the room?"

Juan notices a few items on the welcome desk askew and wordlessly rearranges them. 

Juan: "What do you think? You want to trade?"

But we are at a loss for words. Namely because:

1. A mysterious woman named Danielle is still hiding out somewhere in the room. Under the bed? In the bathtub? Who knows?

2. Juan has a thick accent. He may have said Daniel. A random man hiding out in the room sounds even worse.

3. What is Danielle doing in there? Why are the sheets rustled? Is this a party room, for "friends" of the employees?

Juan: "Yes or no?"

We all just sort of shook our heads. "No. Um... thanks for letting us smell." I have to say, the ride back down in the elevator, alone with Juan, was a little awkward.

Surprisingly, "smelling a room" was not our strangest request. We also asked for a needle, some rubbing alcohol, and something that could be used to puncture skin. We asked for these on three separate occasions to aid in the extraction of an infected taste bud, a bulging foot blister, and a ripe lip zit. 

I know what you're thinking: "An infected taste bud, a foot blister, and a lip zit? Why wasn't I invited?"

I know what else you're thinking: "She goes to New York City, and all she can blog about is how she got to smell a room?"

I wanna know what you think. Who was the woman? Was it the make out room? You might be tempted to say she was cleaning the room, but then why was it locked? And why did she hide?

I promise I'll have more stories and pictures later. But I have to run to Disneyland. *Dons cape* *Jumps out window*