The Letterman show flies me out, a driver picks me up at the airport, he has an umbrella to protect my head from the sleet, he drives me to the hotel, a well dressed guy grabs my gab, brings it in the hotel, I’m at the front desk.
They have a reservation under my name, the room and tax is paid for for four nights, but they won’t let me check in cause I don’t have a credit card for incidentals.
The whole process is stopped because I might make a phone call. The incidentals are more important than a pre-paid room. So there I site in the lobby with a green dufflebag. My “I don’t care about the mini-bar and I’ll use the pay phone” plea falling on dead ears. “Look, I’ll only make 800 calls, I promise. The first one will be 800.”