The conference I went to lasted five days. Two thousand people filled the room. Many of them knew each other, it was almost like a reunion for them. During my time there not one person invited me to eat with them.
I didn’t mind some alone time but missed eating with the other seven in my family. Trying to save money, I would go to the deli and buy fruit and a large pastry to take to my room for breakfast, hoping it would last me a couple days. Being an introvert and mother of six. I slept whenever I could but I was lonely. Each day I walked to the convention hall by myself, in my high-heeled blistered feet. One afternoon I ate in a packed restaurant. The only place for me was the one single seat left at the bar. Totally awkward for an introvert. I pretended invisibility and spoke to no one, thankful when I was done. The convention blessed me in so many ways, with lots of great information, and back to back meetings. Often I had little time for dinner. One night after the evening session, I was starving. I decided to splurge and ordered a Caesar salad and Sprite. I call the number on the hotel phone and placed my order. After I hung up, I realized I hadn’t given them my room number. I called back. “No problem, Ms. Womack, we have your room number here.” Embarrassed I hung up. They brought the meal but the soda was flat. I called the front desk again. By this point, I knew his name, Tyler. “No worries, Ms. Womack. We’ll get that right up to you.” In the meantime, I didn’t realize that I could pay for the meal when I finished my stay. Jer and I weren’t even using credit cards. I used my sisters to book the hotel room.When the young man, who deliver my meal, came to my door I handed him cash and ask for change. I wasn’t going to for get to tip him. He looked a little baffled but I didn’t understand why. He had to run down stairs and back to my room to do this. My stomach grumbled, calling me to the food. Now ten o'clock I couldn’t wait for the soda. I ate every bite and drank my flat soda and my non-flat soda. When I was done, I noticed a little card on the tray telling me to call when I was done and they’d come pick up my finished dinner outside my door. Double checking it wasn’t the same number as Tyler’s, I called. Guess who answer? Tyler. What did I do? I hung up. Guess who called me back? “Ms. Womack, is there something I can do for you?” Mortified, I told him my tray was ready to be picked up. I immediately called my husband crying. He tried to hide his laughter as I wept over how I had made a fool of myself. He worked to reassure me but his laughter made it less than convincing. I felt better after a good nights sleep.