I arrive at the Myrtle Beach KOA after confirming my reservation in the morning. When idle conversation yields me sleeping in my car, all 4 KOA employees in the office speak in unison that there is a city ordinance prohibiting guests from sleeping in their cars. I counter with, geeze, that would have been nice to have that info relayed to me on the phone this morning before I traveled over 300 miles to get here. After finger pointing by 'grumpy receptionist' (GR) who took my reservation, Ray (the manager) steps in and addresses the problem at hand. He verbalizes his solution for me to stay in a cabin which will be across from a pull through site that has a NEMA 14-50 and will give it to me at tent site pricing. Bueno! GR now starts to process the paperwork, but is ringing me up for cabin and NEMA 14-50 rates. When I mention, that's not what Ray just said, she has a follow-on grump attack, complete with eyeball rolls, and asks Ray who confirms, yes tent pricing. Hmmm, maybe listening just isn't everyone's forte. Sometimes it doesn't take a village, it just takes a cattle prod.
|Ray, the GR neutralizer|
|The smallest space I have worked out in yet!|
Tomorrow, a day at a beach, but not just any beach. A beach that I've heard about more times than Kitt's been to the trough. Myrtle Beach!