Tallying Up The Cost of an All-Expenses Paid Trip

by Aja Frost

All-expenses paid. That’s a magical adjective, isn’t it? I think it’s my new favorite — although four-star, first-class, and state-of-the-art are all battling it out for second place.

As readers of my column will know, I’m a 20-year-old college student who’s much more familiar with BYOB than all-expenses-paid.

Yet right now, in a totally unexpected twist of fate, I’m actually on an all-expenses paid trip. I’m typing this sitting in the lobby of a luxury hotel. My Cool Face is on, but inside I’m being very, very uncool.

Here’s what happened: Six days ago, I got an email from a PR rep for a Celebrity You’ve Heard Of. The rep wanted to know if I was interested in flying out to Chicago to meet Celebrity, attending Celebrity’s event, and then blogging about it. Airfare, hotel, transportation, and meals would all be covered.

Yes, I wrote back, I’m interested.

(That’s the email equivalent of my Cool Face.)

So what are the costs of an all-expenses-paid trip to Chicago?

Sunday at 2:30 a.m., a town car pulled up outside my apartment building to drive me two hours to the airport. The chauffeur was a friendly man who was fretting about leaving his disabled wife home alone. He almost didn’t take this job, he said, but “the gratuity was too good to pass up.”

“How much was the gratuity?” I asked casually.

“$90,” he said. “On top of a $608 ride.”

Shuttle to and from the airport: $1,396

It took almost eight hours to get to Chicago. I know exactly how much the tickets cost, since the rep forwarded me the confirmation info.

Total airfare: $1,400

Another town car met me outside baggage claim. Unlike the first driver, this guy rebuffed all my conversation attempts, which I could forgive. I couldn’t forgive the nauseating odor of cigarettes that permeated every inch of the car. But when we pulled up to the hotel, my disgruntled mood disappeared. I was staying in Famous Hotel in Famous Rich Chicago Neighborhood.

“All the celebrities stay here,” the publicist had assured me. I resisted the urge to tell her I usually considered the Marriott a splurge.

This hotel would have refused to even acknowledge the Marriott if they’d seen each other at a party. The outside was posh, with two doormen who instantly leaped forward to grab my bags, and the inside was even posher: dripping chandeliers, cozy fires in the fireplaces, lots of marble, and guests in designer clothes draped over chic white furniture.

My room looked like it had been decorated by an Apple tech. It was very neutral, very minimal, and utterly gorgeous. I took a bazillion pictures. (I even have one of the elegant steel trash can.)

Cost of one night’s stay in a four-star hotel: $350

Oh, and on my desk was a box of gourmet chocolates and Garrett’s Chicago popcorn with a cheery hand-written note saying the PR team hoped I would enjoy my stay.

Swag: $20?

The next morning, we had breakfast at the hotel’s apparently iconic restaurant. I got oatmeal with fresh berries, a seasonal fruit plate, and coffee. It tasted exactly like the breakfast I make every morning in my apartment — but cost almost a seventh of my monthly grocery budget.

Breakfast: $30

Then a town car took us to the event center. I didn’t blink an eye at the immaculately dressed chauffeur; I was adjusting quite quickly to the high life. Town car, schmown car.

Town car: $50?

After getting a lay of the land, discussing possible blog topics, and sharing our own stories, it was time for lunch. I had two servings of steak fajitas.

There was still no sign of Celebrity.

Catered lunch: $12?

Finally, Celebrity and his people arrived. Even though I’m not usually into meeting celebrities — unless they’re my age and hot, like Zac Efron — I still felt suitably impressed by his charisma and “star presence.” There was a weird urge to bow, which I ignored.

The other bloggers and I, along with 30 or so audience-members, took our seats. We filmed four twenty-minute sessions; between each session, Celebrity would be hustled to another room where he could relax, drink water, and eat nuts (his snack of choice, we learned).

Celebrity performance fee: I honestly have no idea.

I was supposed to fly back to California as soon as the event was over, but the huge storm in the Northeast caused my flight to be rescheduled to the next morning. There weren’t any vacancies in the four-star hotel — apparently a “huge” heating and cooling convention was currently happening in Chicago and “all of downtown was completely booked.”

I felt a surge of panic. Would my all-expenses-paid trip end with me sleeping on the unfriendly carpet of an airport terminal?

“We’ve put you in a lovely hotel just five minutes from the airport,” the PR rep told me. “Your town car is waiting to take you there right now.”

If possible, this hotel was even nicer than the first. I had my own suite, with a huge king bed, 12-foot ceilings, and a spa-like bathroom.

Hotel cost: $350

The PR rep had extolled the virtues of the hotel restaurant. When I asked whether it was affordable, her face crinkled up in amusement.

“Just charge it to the room!”

I ordered a magnificent bowl of paella, with buttery saffron rice, tomatoes and peas, shrimp, chorizo, and mussels. The whole thing was swimming in butter. To top things off, I also got some Texan chili and a diet Coke.

Dinner: $45.96

There was a huge, plush robe in one of the closets. After gleefully putting it on and doing a few movie-star poses in the mirror, I called the front desk.

“If I take the robe, will you charge the room?” I asked. The answer was unsurprisingly yes. (Hey, they give you free shampoo and lotion — I thought this was such a swanky place there was a chance the robe was complimentary too.)

I briefly considered packing it in my suitcase, but I’d spent $45 on dinner, and even I have my limits.

Now I’m sitting in the lobby, waiting for yet another town car to take me to the airport so I can fly home.

I don’t feel emotionally ready to go to Astronomy tomorrow.

The total cost of what was undoubtedly one of the coolest weekends in my life: $3,603.96 (not including unknown Celebrity fee)

This column is part of a multi-part series.

Aja Frost is a student at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo who loves writing… and dessert. Follow her on Twitter @ajavuu.

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