The language barrier already strikes

Just arrived in Barcelona this morning, one of the few times in my life that I'll be here in Spain and not be jet lagged. I'll definitely plan to soak that up and bask in the glow while the rest of my colleagues cradle their coffee and rub their watering eyes.

All was going well until I sent off some laundry. Being on the road for 13 days means I get to send some stuff out through the hotel, both for laundry and for dry cleaning. I was shocked to receive back my (now noticeably worn) brand new grey pants with a bit of a damp, laundered look!

I tried calling the housekeeping department, but of course, none of them spoke English. After a few minutes of me creating words that are barely Spanish and probably closer to Klingon, I just brought the pants down to the front desk.

After another 15 minutes and countless serfs bringing in their managers, I was told that someone who could actually compensate me for my now laundered dry-clean only pants would actually not be in until Monday. Monday, of course, is the big start of the conference so it was clear I wasn't going to be around to chat.

"What hours will he be in?", I asked. "9:00 to 3:00", she answered. Perfect.