The Wristband Fiasco
Needless to say, the idea of showering with said bands was interesting. Thankfully, mine was loose enough that I slid my hand out and placed it on an end table for safe keeping. Jonathan was not so lucky. (We were forced to be creative, so we ended up wrapping a plastic bag provided in the hotel room for laundry around his wrist repeatedly and securing it with my hair bands – since we didn’t have tape or rubber bands.)
On Tuesday night, we began packing a bag in preparation for our early morning when I remembered that I needed to pack my wristband.
…but it was gone. We looked under the end table, around the end table, in the trash, under the bed. It was nowhere to be found. Panic began to set in. I needed that wristband in order to get in the Coliseum the next morning.
Out of desperation, we high-tailed it to the Coliseum at 10:15 p.m. to try to get another bracelet. Thankfully, they were still registering people. We were met with odd looks from the Idol representatives when we explained the situation. But in the end, they put another band on my wrist (this time more tightly), and I promised to not remove it.
Our best guess is that the housekeeper either took my wristband or threw it away accidentally. Either way, it provided some unexpected excitement. And I learned my lesson to never remove important wristbands (even when they slide off easily)…