The Concierge Who Saved Christmas

For 16 years we have been going to a very Grand Hotel for Christmas Eve. It is a lovely place, with richly panelled walls and a deep fireplace. It is always greened for Christmas with garlands and poinsettias and lights. It is a timeless place; when you enter the Fireside Room and sit back in one of the deep wingback chairs you feel like you could be anywhere - New York, Rome, London. Everything is hushed and elegant but it has never felt like an exclusive club; it might appear to be the sort of place that judges you by your shoe leather but the attitude is friendly, not snooty.Service is perhaps a tad slow but the experience is always pleasant. For 16 years, as I've said, we've marked important occasions there and even as our traditions have evolved we have never, ever missed a Christmas Eve. We order plates of little over-priced appetizers and drink expensive things and listen to the pianist or the Dickens' Carolers and have a grand, even somewhat magical, time.

The Grand Hotel has become an increasingly popular spot on Christmas Eve. As the years have gone on we've always congratulated ourselves on the fact that we now go there early to enjoy our preprandials before the 5:30 Mass. Because every year, as we leave, the room is full and a line is beginning to form. So it wasn't that much of a surprise to arrive this year and find that after 5pm they would only be seating parties with reservations. On the other hand, it was only 3pm, there were exactly 2 parties already seated and we were going to be out of there by 4:30. All of which I told the rather aloof hostess who finally bothered to greet us after a 10 minute wait.

"Well, I suppose you can have a seat", she replied.

This wasn't the greeting we expected or deserved but we found a large table and settled in. One of the other parties turned out to be people we knew so we greeted them with hugs and "Merry Christmas" and prepared to enjoy ourselves.

We waited to be brought menus. And waited. We were meeting David and Stina and I realized I didn't have their number in my new cell phone so went to the lobby to call The Neighbor to see if she had it. While I was on the phone, The Child came out and said, "Daddy wants to leave". I looked up and he was coming out with The Hat. He said something to the manager, something about "coming here for 16 years" and expressions of displeasure, which was met with a casual, "I'm sorry. Merry Christmas". At that moment David, Stina and their boys came through the door so we gathered them up and had a parlay in the courtyard.

Starbucks was suggested but dismissed by The Spouse. He didn't want coffee and a pastry. He wanted food, bowls of mussels and plates of satay. He wanted wine. (I admit, he is not nuanced in his frustration or displeasure and the consequent snarfiness of his demeanor cast a bit of a pall on the proceedings at that moment but objectively one can't blame him for wanting this meal to be what it historically was, an event, and not merely a way to pass time before Mass).

We decided to walk down the hill a few blocks to another hotel. The only real problem with this plan was that The Hat is not really up to such trekking and by the time we arrived she was quite sure that she would not be walking any where else that evening. I said a silent prayer that this would be our last stop.

We walked in and were greeted by the concierge, a young and fresh-faced youth whose brass name plate said "Erik"...with a k. We explained how we'd been essentially turned away from the Sorrento (Ha! they've been outed) and sought a little Christmas cheer.

"Well," he said thoughtfully, "our restaurant is closed and unfortunately the children can't be in the bar but" - and this is the important point- "let me see what I can do".

"Let me see what I can do". Not a fancy phrase but one which suggested that he understood that he was in the hospitality industry. He invited us to be seated in the lobby and went off to see to things.

It turned out like this: He had us order drinks and food in the bar and then set up a small table between our lobby chairs. He brought a carafe of cocoa for the children. He told the bartender he would serve us and brought out our lovely plates of satay and spring rolls, hummus and Buffalo wings (because really, is it Christmas without Buffalo wings?) We all sat cozily by the high windows, looking out onto the festive lights of the city streets, drinking our delicious drinks and nibbling on the very yummy food. We laughed, we enjoyed ourselves. Anger, frustration and irritation were banished and we had a joyous time.

Stina and I had to leave to save seats at church so we thanked Erik-with-a-K for his care. I gave him a big hug and told him he had saved Christmas and that we would be back next year. The lobby may not have been festooned in quite as elegant a fashion as it was at the Sorrento but it was clearly a more possessed of Christmas spirit.

Just before Mass started the rest of our party arrived, in high spirits. The plan had been to take a cab up to the Cathedral to spare The Hat from walking but, no. Erik-with-a-K had decided that he didn't want them to risk waiting on a cab so he drove them up in the hotel town car.

Was he tipped handsomely? Of course. And while I suspect that there may have been moments when he considered this possibility, I don't think that was the prime mover because he was genuine, thoughtful and, here's the key word, hospitable to us. And you know what? Even if everything he did was motivated by what he thought he'd be getting out of it, that doesn't change the fact that he took 2 families that were disappointed and filled them with Christmas cheer.

As I sat in Mass, listening again to the Christmas gospel, I realized we'd had a Biblical experience. 2 families, in search of succor, had been turned away from one inn but welcomed at another. There wasn't a restaurant, but Erik-with-a-K made us comfortable in the "stable" of the lobby, giving us a warm place to celebrate, blessing us with his kindness.

(If you're ever looking for a little sumpthin sumpthin in downtown Seattle, allow me to recommend the Madison Renaissance Hotel, 515 Madison St. The food is very nice, the drinks are lovely and the people even lovelier. But avoid the Sorrento. They can't be bothered).