So I checked out of the Trump Plaza in Atlantic City the other day after a press trip to judge a really fun drag contest at Boardwalk Hall.
I allowed 15 full minutes to do this because I know from experience that they will try to hit you with fake charges and you’ll have to fight back with every pore of your fiery soul.
And I was right, honey.
“You owe $11.05,” said the checkout lady at first, and I was totally stunned. That was actually the correct amount! (Five bucks for room tax and $6.05 for a tip on a meal.)
But the creature started to second guess herself, seemingly annoyed that she’d slipped and been honest. “No, wait,” she belched, “that’s actually $50!”
“You owe for the breakfast today,” she croaked.
“But it was comp,” I assured her. “As you know, the meal was taken care of except for the tip. You were right the first time.”
The woman made all kinds of mysterious phone calls and ducked to into some hidden office for “meetings.”
I wouldn’t relent, so after a while, she said, “I got confirmation. It’s suposed to be comp. Here’s your adjusted receipt.”
I was thrilled, until I looked down and noticed she’d doubled the room tax! The “adjusted” bill was now $16.05!
“But I only stayed one night,” I informed her, “and you know it.”
“Two nights!” she insisted.
“The slip you made me sign on arrival had an earlier check-in date on it,” I informed her, “but I corrected it by hand to avoid a trick like this. Now please adjust it back right now. I have a car waiting!”
This time she didn’t put up a fight.
“OK, here’s your adjusted receipt,” she said, handing me a whole new sheet. It was for $11.05. Her original, correct amount!
Now I’ll be living in terror for a month waiting to see if, in revenge, they add charges to my credit card bill like the Trump Taj Mahal did last time.
This must be where the phrase “trumped-up charges” came from.