One thing led to another, this afternoon, in the Marriott Denver-Tech-Center hotel lobby. A baking hot afternoon. A war between suburban hotel shuttle services. I was left waiting for about 45 minutes to get from the conference hotel (on the edge of a 12 lane motorway), to the hotel I was staying at (in the middle of nowhere). A hell hole industrial wasteland of nowhere. I ain’t joking.
I hung out in the lobby which was the size of a small football pitch. Chatting to the ‘bell/concierge’ person every now and again. She was working her socks off trying to negotiate ways out of the hotel for a constant stream of large and small groups of people who wanted to go somewhere.
I watched delegates from the Vision of the American West Bonsai Convention carefully wheel their trees away on luggage trollies, and vaguely regretted not spending more time at their exhibition. Various delegates from the disability conference I was attending, milled around, on foot, in chairs, on scooters, chatting, signing, discussing where to eat that evening. There was a lively, end of the day conference buzz. I met a delegate from Witney who had emailed me months ago. Funny old world and all that.
Three young men came through the revolving doors dressed in US naval uniform. They visibly responded, seeing a small group of conference delegates standing by the entrance. One of them stopped, momentarily and stared. He was given a brief hand squeeze on the shoulder by his colleague. There were the tiniest of half grins, a small cough, then faces were rearranged into studied disinterest.
All in the Marriott lobby. On a baking hot afternoon. That’s all.