nodge
TUG Member
Hi Gang,
I’ve got another data point. Here’s the summary:
The Westin in Southfield, Michigan (outside of Detroit) upgraded me to a “suite” when I was staying one night on SPG “cash & points,” and it let me stay in my “suite” for the rest of the week, even though I had booked the remainder of the week via Priceline for $60/night.
Before everyone gets all warm and fuzzy over SPG Plat status, in the interest of full disclosure, it turns out that a “suite” at the Westin Southfield is really just a larger room that I’m guessing is about 200 square feet larger than a regular room.
This is what it took to get that extra 200 square feet:
I needed to spend about a week in the Detroit area for my job. The corporate rate at the Westin Southfield for the nights I’d be there was $208/night, but with the help of www.betterbidding.com, I quickly learned that the going Priceline rate for this hotel was around $60/night. The SPG “cash & points” rate was $45/night +2800 SPG points.
Eager to test my SPG platinum status for the TUG team, I made two reservations. The first night I booked with “cash & points” in order to qualify for and test any SPG platinum upgrade privileges vested therein, and the remainder of the week I figured I’d just slum it in a regular Priceline cheapo room.
Upon my check-in using “cash & points,” the desk agent (Agent No. 1) greeted me by noticing from my reservation that I was an SPG Plat member. Specifically, she said without any prompting from me:
“I notice that you are an SPG Platinum. Let me see if any upgrades are available.”
[Wow, no one had ever said anything like that on check-in. I viewed this as a good sign. She then paused for a minute and began typing away on the computer, presumably to shift folks around so that she could upgrade my boney butt to the suite to which I’m entitled. . . . ]
“Yes, we have an upgrade available for you Mr. [Nodge.]” (“Hot Damn” I think)
[Now, I’m torn. Do I look like a schmuck and ask her to clarify what she means by “upgrade” or do I just take it and just say “Thanks.” I chose option 2.]
So I take my card keys and haul my luggage up to the 11th floor, down the hall, and open the door to find . . . . . a regular old hotel room.
So I drop my bags in the room, and head back down to the front desk to ask “Whassup with that?”
Upon return, the agent that had originally helped me found some very important papers to shuffle further down along the counter, and never looked up. So I waited for another desk agent (Agent No. 2) to get off the phone. (This was at about 10 PM on Sunday night, and it was just me and these two agents in the lobby).
Agent No. 2 eventually finished her phone conversation, ending it with an “I gotta go,” the telltale sign that her call was extremely important Starwood business that I was rudely interrupting.
I then got the opportunity to explain what had just happened with me and Agent No. 1 to Agent No. 2, all while Agent No. 1 continued to shuffle papers within ear shot of us and not look up.
I said that Agent No. 1 told me that since I was an SPG platinum member, I was getting an “upgrade,” but that when I got up to the room, it wasn’t an upgraded room, but just a regular ol’ hotel room. Agent No. 2 said:
“No, No. You WE’RE upgraded, because we placed you on our SPG floor. Didn’t you see the signs that said “SPG Elite” in the elevator lobby of the 11th Floor?” [Agent No. 1 continued to shuffle papers during all of this. Who knew that being a desk agent at a hotel required so much paper shuffling?]
I asked if the “SPG Floor” was a concierge floor with a cheese room/club lounge etc. She said “no,” that the hotel didn’t have a concierge floor, but that the “SPG floor” was reserved for their special SPG members. “Ah” I said, as if that made some sort of sense.
I then played dumb and said that I thought SPG Platinum’s were entitled to automatic SUITE upgrades on check in if available. I asked if any such suites were available.
Agent No. 2 then told me she’d check, and began typing away on the computer. She then said:
“We have one suite available, but it is a handicapper suite with no tub.”
Not one to take bubble baths on business trips, I said “I’ll take it.”
She gave me the card keys and I was on my way to the 6th floor. She also gave me a single use key for my old room so that I could pick-up my luggage on the 11th floor. I then moved into “suite” 601.
I did a lap around the new room and quickly learned:
1) That it wasn’t a handicapper unit; and,
2) That it wasn’t a suite either.
Rather, the room was an end unit in the parenthesis-shaped hotel that is apparently called a suite because it has a small (approx 200 sq ft) alcove that is entirely open to the living area that extends into otherwise unusable extra space behind the stairwell at the end of the hall.
I then returned my first room key to Agent No. 2 downstairs. I asked her if my new room was really a suite, because I had seen the term “executive room” used to describe some rooms when making the reservation, and I asked her if I was really in one of those “executive rooms.” She said that “executive rooms” are just regular hotel rooms, but they are on the top three floors of the hotel. She confirmed that I was in a full-blown “suite.” I still have my doubts.
So the next morning I pack up to move. Since the hotel is giving rooms away for $60/night on Priceline, I figure it has plenty of empty space, so I swing by the front desk and ask if I can move to my new room now (at 7 AM) instead of having to pack-up, move out, and then move back in later that day.
The agent tapped away on the computer, and told me that I wasn’t entitled to a suite because I booked my room on Priceline. (I don’t recall asking for one lady, but thanks for the info.) She then says that I can stay in my “suite” for the rest of the week, anyway. Thanks!
So here are my current stats:
3.5 upgrades for 9 attempts. (That’s a 38.9% success rate)
I’m also 0 for 3.5 (0%) on any of those upgrades being “automatic;” and,
3.5 for 3.5 (100%) on being forced to beg for them / forcefully inquire well beyond my normal comfort level.
No discussion of the Westin Southfield would be complete without mentioning that the hotel is apparently competing to win the highly coveted award for most dirty room service trays piled up in the hallway outside of guest room doors for the longest period of time. One evening, I counted 7 trays piled up in my walk from my room to the elevator lobby on the sixth floor. That number had increased to 10 when I returned to my room about two hours later. (FWIW, the guest in room 602 routinely enjoys eating oatmeal with strawberries for dinner (unless those trays are all still there from breakfast each day), and the guests in room 605 don’t put any butter on their dinner rolls.)
On the plus side, if anyone is interested in starting a mini-salt and pepper shaker collection, I highly recommend staying at the Westin Southfield where such slightly-used collectibles are literally free for the taking down any guest room hallway at any time of day.
-nodge
3.5 upgrades for 9 attempts. (That’s a 38.9% success rate)
I’ve got another data point. Here’s the summary:
The Westin in Southfield, Michigan (outside of Detroit) upgraded me to a “suite” when I was staying one night on SPG “cash & points,” and it let me stay in my “suite” for the rest of the week, even though I had booked the remainder of the week via Priceline for $60/night.
Before everyone gets all warm and fuzzy over SPG Plat status, in the interest of full disclosure, it turns out that a “suite” at the Westin Southfield is really just a larger room that I’m guessing is about 200 square feet larger than a regular room.
This is what it took to get that extra 200 square feet:
I needed to spend about a week in the Detroit area for my job. The corporate rate at the Westin Southfield for the nights I’d be there was $208/night, but with the help of www.betterbidding.com, I quickly learned that the going Priceline rate for this hotel was around $60/night. The SPG “cash & points” rate was $45/night +2800 SPG points.
Eager to test my SPG platinum status for the TUG team, I made two reservations. The first night I booked with “cash & points” in order to qualify for and test any SPG platinum upgrade privileges vested therein, and the remainder of the week I figured I’d just slum it in a regular Priceline cheapo room.
Upon my check-in using “cash & points,” the desk agent (Agent No. 1) greeted me by noticing from my reservation that I was an SPG Plat member. Specifically, she said without any prompting from me:
“I notice that you are an SPG Platinum. Let me see if any upgrades are available.”
[Wow, no one had ever said anything like that on check-in. I viewed this as a good sign. She then paused for a minute and began typing away on the computer, presumably to shift folks around so that she could upgrade my boney butt to the suite to which I’m entitled. . . . ]
“Yes, we have an upgrade available for you Mr. [Nodge.]” (“Hot Damn” I think)
[Now, I’m torn. Do I look like a schmuck and ask her to clarify what she means by “upgrade” or do I just take it and just say “Thanks.” I chose option 2.]
So I take my card keys and haul my luggage up to the 11th floor, down the hall, and open the door to find . . . . . a regular old hotel room.
So I drop my bags in the room, and head back down to the front desk to ask “Whassup with that?”
Upon return, the agent that had originally helped me found some very important papers to shuffle further down along the counter, and never looked up. So I waited for another desk agent (Agent No. 2) to get off the phone. (This was at about 10 PM on Sunday night, and it was just me and these two agents in the lobby).
Agent No. 2 eventually finished her phone conversation, ending it with an “I gotta go,” the telltale sign that her call was extremely important Starwood business that I was rudely interrupting.
I then got the opportunity to explain what had just happened with me and Agent No. 1 to Agent No. 2, all while Agent No. 1 continued to shuffle papers within ear shot of us and not look up.
I said that Agent No. 1 told me that since I was an SPG platinum member, I was getting an “upgrade,” but that when I got up to the room, it wasn’t an upgraded room, but just a regular ol’ hotel room. Agent No. 2 said:
“No, No. You WE’RE upgraded, because we placed you on our SPG floor. Didn’t you see the signs that said “SPG Elite” in the elevator lobby of the 11th Floor?” [Agent No. 1 continued to shuffle papers during all of this. Who knew that being a desk agent at a hotel required so much paper shuffling?]
I asked if the “SPG Floor” was a concierge floor with a cheese room/club lounge etc. She said “no,” that the hotel didn’t have a concierge floor, but that the “SPG floor” was reserved for their special SPG members. “Ah” I said, as if that made some sort of sense.
I then played dumb and said that I thought SPG Platinum’s were entitled to automatic SUITE upgrades on check in if available. I asked if any such suites were available.
Agent No. 2 then told me she’d check, and began typing away on the computer. She then said:
“We have one suite available, but it is a handicapper suite with no tub.”
Not one to take bubble baths on business trips, I said “I’ll take it.”
She gave me the card keys and I was on my way to the 6th floor. She also gave me a single use key for my old room so that I could pick-up my luggage on the 11th floor. I then moved into “suite” 601.
I did a lap around the new room and quickly learned:
1) That it wasn’t a handicapper unit; and,
2) That it wasn’t a suite either.
Rather, the room was an end unit in the parenthesis-shaped hotel that is apparently called a suite because it has a small (approx 200 sq ft) alcove that is entirely open to the living area that extends into otherwise unusable extra space behind the stairwell at the end of the hall.
I then returned my first room key to Agent No. 2 downstairs. I asked her if my new room was really a suite, because I had seen the term “executive room” used to describe some rooms when making the reservation, and I asked her if I was really in one of those “executive rooms.” She said that “executive rooms” are just regular hotel rooms, but they are on the top three floors of the hotel. She confirmed that I was in a full-blown “suite.” I still have my doubts.
So the next morning I pack up to move. Since the hotel is giving rooms away for $60/night on Priceline, I figure it has plenty of empty space, so I swing by the front desk and ask if I can move to my new room now (at 7 AM) instead of having to pack-up, move out, and then move back in later that day.
The agent tapped away on the computer, and told me that I wasn’t entitled to a suite because I booked my room on Priceline. (I don’t recall asking for one lady, but thanks for the info.) She then says that I can stay in my “suite” for the rest of the week, anyway. Thanks!
So here are my current stats:
3.5 upgrades for 9 attempts. (That’s a 38.9% success rate)
I’m also 0 for 3.5 (0%) on any of those upgrades being “automatic;” and,
3.5 for 3.5 (100%) on being forced to beg for them / forcefully inquire well beyond my normal comfort level.
No discussion of the Westin Southfield would be complete without mentioning that the hotel is apparently competing to win the highly coveted award for most dirty room service trays piled up in the hallway outside of guest room doors for the longest period of time. One evening, I counted 7 trays piled up in my walk from my room to the elevator lobby on the sixth floor. That number had increased to 10 when I returned to my room about two hours later. (FWIW, the guest in room 602 routinely enjoys eating oatmeal with strawberries for dinner (unless those trays are all still there from breakfast each day), and the guests in room 605 don’t put any butter on their dinner rolls.)
On the plus side, if anyone is interested in starting a mini-salt and pepper shaker collection, I highly recommend staying at the Westin Southfield where such slightly-used collectibles are literally free for the taking down any guest room hallway at any time of day.
-nodge
3.5 upgrades for 9 attempts. (That’s a 38.9% success rate)
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