 Nora's
Carolina
Moon Tour 2000
Printer's Ink
San Francisco, CA
Wednesday, March 29 & Thursday,
March 30
Tour Reports
Jamie
ADWOFF is
just a tad worried about *our* Nora ... if she
kills the guy in the tool belt, do you suppose she
can claim temporary insanity? ;-) Unfortunately,
the sublime has become the ridiculous ... our
hearts are breaking for Nora in San Francisco--and
yours will, too, when you read her last installment
of what has to be her worst moment in Tour Hell ...
Wednesday, 5:37:52 PM Eastern Standard Time
Big step up here. Gorgeous suite at the Mark in
SF. I have a killer view and more closet space than
I have at home. LOL. Ordered a burger. Putnam sent
up champagne. I've organized my clothes and and
booked a massage. I'm going to feel lots better
soon.
Found out CM stuck at number three for week
three and WID went up a notch to number nine for
week three. Much joy and celebration in NY, and
shortly on the west coast, too.
I do have about a hundred book plates to sign,
but I'm not thinking about that for awhile.
Nora
Wednesday, 6:06:18 PM Eastern Standard Time
Well, so much for quiet time.
Someone comes up to check the room. Why? I don't
know. Valet comes to get my dry cleaning. Room
service delivers my burger. Bellman brings up fax.
Waiter brings up my bubbly from Putnam. Waiter
delivers fruit and bubbly from hotel. Escort for
tomorrow calls. NY calls. NY calls.
I think to settle down with some TV in a
horizontal position. TV isn't working. Bedroom TV
also full of static. I call down, hoping this is a
hotel cable problem. Apparently not. Engineering
should be here any minute.
Have decided on my one adjustment to tour
outline for next year. Every seven to ten days, I
want a WHOLE day off. Not a down day which also
includes traveling or some little deal. A day where
I wake up and go to bed in the SAME bed and have
nothing to do that day period. I only have one of
those in six weeks. That must be fixed for sure.
I do not want to interact with Engineering. I
want to go hide in a closet while he fixes my TV.
Nora
Wednesday, 6:18:35 PM Eastern Standard Time
Okay, now this is getting silly. A guy just
comes to the door with a fire extinguisher. Did I
have a fire?
No, I'm afraid not.
He must come in and check.
He does and is now walking around the suite
talking to his base on a walkie-talkie. They have
to come adjust the smoke detector--which did NOT go
off in here, but apparently triggers some alarm
down at the desk.
I WANT TO BE ALONE, DAMN IT.
More guys are on their way up to stand, I
suppose, like this guy is and stare up at the
parlor ceiling detector. I could scream.
I may yet.
Have just been informed a guy and a ladder are
coming up.
Yep, may just scream.
Nora
Wednesday, 6:24:57 PM Eastern Standard Time
Have two guys--one suit, one in a tool belt
running around my suite. They can't seem to figure
what's what with TV or smoke alarm.
Very shortly, I will not be responsible for
their safely. I have windows, and I am on the top
floor.
Nora
Wednesday, 9:29:32 PM Eastern Standard Time
Guys went away, without saying a word. I wait.
No one comes back. Cable still out. I call the desk
and ask if anyone's coming back because I want to
take a nap. Minutes later tool belt man comes
knocking on the door, out of breath. Message he
got? My smoke alarm went off again. No, I tell him.
It didn't. Cable is still out though. They're
working on that.
He goes away.
Knock on door. Aargh. Boy delivers sheets for my
massage. Never had this before as massage person
always brings sheets.
I lie down at four-oh-five. Go out like a light.
Next thing I know phone is ringing. Where am I? Who
am I? Concierge calling to say my massage therapist
is here. I conked for 50 minutes.
Massage girl just left. Cable still out. Maybe
it's nap time again. LOL
Nora
Thursday, 10:39:39 AM Eastern Standard Time
It was not over after all.
Still no cable. Got a book and read until ten.
At eleven-thirty my doorbell rings, waking me
out of a dead sleep. Trudge to the door, swearing a
blue streak. WHAT???
Did your alarm go off says the little suit man
from security who was here earlier.
What, my SMOKE alarm? (I'm saying all this
through the door. He'll have to break that sucker
down to get in here again.) NO!! It didn't go off
before, it didn't go off now.
Um....Are you smoking again.
NO!! I was sleeping!
Oh. Um. There must be something wrong. I'll have
them turn off the alarm.
I say nothing, hear him talk code into his
walkie-talkie as I trudge back to bed. Where I now,
natch, can't sleep.
Still no cable this morning.
Nora
Thursday, 3:46:53 PM Eastern Standard Time
AAIIEEE!!!!
No cable. I leave for my morning TV deal. Get
back at ten-thirty, thinking, God give me a couple
hour's along time, then maybe I'll go out an walk
in the sunshine, shop a bit.
But noooo.
Engineering is in my damn room replacing the
stupid smoke detectors. He says he'll come back.
When? I think. When I'm asleep, when I'm in the
shower, on the john? I leave, go walk, shop--got a
great outfit--dressy silvery blue gray silk. Fitted
top, long skirt, and a jacket. Putz around, then
walk up the long, steep hills back to my hotel.
Good for the calves and quads.
Get back to my room, nearly weeping at the
notion that I will be ALONE.
Housekeeping is in my room. It's beyond farcical
now. She speaks very little English. I can't make
her understand I don't want her to vacuum. Just
hurry up and GO. She smiles at me, nods at me. And
vacuums. I'm too beat up to shove her out the
window.
At this moment, everyone's gone. Wonder who may
come to my door next.
Nora
Thursday, 4:21:17 PM Eastern Standard Time
Update: Five minutes after housekeeper leaves,
doorbell rings. Engineering to check my TV. I told
them NO ONE else was coming in this room. I was
sorry, but I'd had enough. They apologized and went
away. LOL
Nora
Thursday, 8:21:18 PM Eastern Standard Time
I think my hotel room is actually some alternate
universe.
About the time everyone finally leaves, and I
head into the bedroom to take my lie-me-down,
construction guys begin to saw through a stone
ledge just below my room. There is no sound like
the sound of a stone saw. I promise you.
I call the manager girl whose name Liz has given
me, after Liz has talked to her--and dressed down
the idiot on the desk who was snotty with her. She
apologizes and is very nice. Is willing to move to,
to another room, another hotel, whatever, but as I
explain that would involve people. I don't want to
see any people. She promises I won't as she's put a
triple privacy lock on my room and all departments
have been notified not to disturb me in any way
barring life-threatening emergencies. She will
check on the stone cutting and find out when it's
going to stop. She will call me back if that's okay
with me. It is as sleep is not possible.
I do lie down and shortly sort of drift to that
stage where the hideous noise becomes part of my
half-dream world. She gets back to me in about a
half hour and tells me they're stopping now.
Reassures me again I will not be disturbed.
I hang up, shut my eyes and am nearly asleep
when the phone rings. Obviously the valet
department didn't get the memo, and they're coming
up with my laundry. Jeez, okay. He comes, I take
the stuff, hang it up, fall facedown on the bed.
I'm out like a light.
For about fifteen minutes. Because my phone
rings AGAIN and some little Oriental man tells me
he has an amenity for me and will I please open my
door which has a DO NOT DISTURB sign on it. I
wonder why I have that sign there when quite
obviously no one in this place can read or
comprehend the word NOT. If I'd been a little more
awake, I'd have told him to go away, but I'm punchy
and I get up and open the door. He brings me wine
and fruit, an apology from the hotel for all the
intrusions which also states there will be no more
of that.
The joke's on them.
Cannot get back to sleep. I surrender to my
fate.
Nora
Under the heading of People Ruin Everything:
It's a long drive to the bookstore--about an
hour. And the signing doesn't start till eight.
Late for a signing, I think. But the bookstore is
great. An old indie, comfortable and with a hip
cafe. College students. Last year, they nearly had
to close, but the community got behind them. The
store just has a nice feel to it.
The event is in a big open area that no longer
belongs to the store, and will shortly be an art
gallery. We've got a nice, happy crowd. Helps perk
me up as I'm so tired now, I'm punchy.
Then we get to the actual signing part. Lots of
friendly people, lots of fun. The first clue snuck
by me. Not tough at my stage. Woman has a big pile
of back-list--hauled them in for pals. She will get
me to sign some then get in the back of the line
for more. That's cool. A lot of people have a lot
of back list. My fave is the girl who--and she did
buy CM from the store--had a tattered to threads
copy of Tempting Fate. Her first book by me,
and her fave. Looked like it had been read a
million times. So sweet, so gratifying.
Then we get a trio who have at least, at LEAST
20 each--want them all personalized. The bookstore
guy doesn't come forward, so I figure he hasn't got
a policy and hasn't gotten the directive. I'm too
tired to handle this as I usually would and do it.
I do a lot of this, and start to get the vague
notion in my tired brain that a lot of these people
aren't getting a book from the store. Grossly
unfair to the store, I think, who's got to the
trouble and expense to put on the event. But still,
I don't think that much of it.
One woman, who identified herself as a
bookseller--used bookstore--has a small pile.
Other woman with pal comes back with a big pile.
Later it occurs to me her pal is ebay, but I'm so
tired I just sign and sign.
Then the kicker. At the end of the line three
woman--one is the used bookstore lady, but I don't
recognize her. I'm blind by this time. Escort
rushes over and begins to make lots of noises.
Tells them I can't sign all those, she has to get
me back. It's now about ten o'clock. They laugh and
chat and pile books on the table saying stuff like
they'll just pick complete sets and stuff. I don't
know how many I signed. Just don't.
Then I see them walking out with A HAMPER OF
BOOKS. A hamper, filled, that takes two of them to
carry. Had to be a hundred in there they'd brought
for me to sign. I probably did twenty or thirty.
This is just wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I think
everyone will agree I'm pretty easy and always
happen to sign someone's collection. But it's not
right to bring in your own stock to another store.
That's number one. Second, jeez, I'm not a signing
machine. What were they thinking?
Now, of course, I must make firm new policy so
this never happens again.
I don't mind another bookseller bringing in a
few for customers. I think that's good customer
service. But a hamper full of used paperbacks? I
don't think so.
Nora
ADWOFF > NORA'S
TOURS >
CAROLINA
MOON
TOUR > San
Francisco
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