The raised fist against the door of the Marriott that the poor woman gave was for the security not letting her in. I’ll be he smiled evilly at her as she knocked and tried to get in.
I called Marriott. They throw you to Customer Service.
Someone please find Arne Sorenson’s number.
Did you see the monkey hunting mutants smiling off to the side? Three weeks ago they were probably using blow guns in the Central American rain forests.