There are great guys and there are GREAT guys. A stranger who let's you use their cell phone when yours runs out of juice? Great guy. A cab driver who chops the price because he accidentally takes the wrong route? Great guy. A waiter who lets you know that the dish you ordered isn't the best thing on the menu, and then suggests a better, cheaper one? Great guy.

Dave from the Hyatt in Downtown Miami? Well, he's a GREAT guy.

As you might have gathered from some of the earlier posts, the hotel I've been posting up at hasn't been exactly ideal for writing purposes. There's no desk, so all my in-hotel writing has been done while sitting with my legs crossed in a bed. After a few attempts to get in some of the other media hotels, it looked like a futile effort. Oh well. No biggie. It was worth the shot.

And then Hench and I met Dave.

The Hyatt is literally around the block from the hotel we were staying at. Looking at it from our windows is similar to Kelly Kapowski watching the Bayside prom from outside the school. So close...yet so far away.

Coming back on Thursday afternoon, we decided to pop in at the Hyatt and check out availability. Figured it couldn't hurt. We told Dave the situation, and instead of him giving us the old heave ho, he gave the always appreciated "Let me go ask my manager." You know how those usually end up? A smile, a shake of the head, and a business card. "We'll call you if anything opens up."

Only, Dave-a Cincinnati native, a big Ken Anderson/James Brooks era Bengals fan, and a true king amongst men-came back with an unexpected response.

"We've got two rooms open. Let's do this."

And then he slapped us five!

Yep, the hotel desk guy slapped us five.

Within seconds, we were back at our old hotel, packing up our belongings, and saying goodbye to the staff.

Outhouse to the Penthouse!

I hop in the elevator on cloud nine. Who's standing there? Cris Carter? Hotelmates! So amped about what just went down, I don't even bother talking to the ex-Viking and future Hall of Fame receiver. After all, who cared about him?

I'd just met Dave from the Hyatt.