Urrrr. Not happy. This pseudo Hilton has denied me my God-given right to dialtone. And I'm starving, having got into town 2 hours later than planned. Undeterred, I dial the front desk with my cellphone.
"Hilton Airport, may I help you?" chirped the receptionist.
"Yes you can. I'm in 305 and would like room service"
"Sir, room service is for guests. We don't deliver, unfortunately"
"Wha..? 305. I'm in 305 in this hotel! My roomphone isn't working so I'm using my cell"
"Oh why didn't you just press the Maintenance button?"
"Because my phone is brok...never mind. Can you please transfer me to room service? My name is Hideo and you can match that to the room number."
"Oh here you are. What kind of a name is that?"
"Oh you speak English very good. I wouldn't have thought so by looking at your name"
"uh...thanks. I do speak English *well*"
"Yes you do! Transferring you now..."
As I ordered my burger, it really sunk in that most of the country is not very...diverse. I guess having grown up near New York city, worked overseas and living in San Jose today has exposed me to a population sample very different from everywhere else.
Maybe I'll put up signs next time and charge admission. Asian Man! Like you see in Movies! Till Thursday only!