The phone in the reservations office of the Aspen Association was ringing urgently last week, and the girl on the answering end was doing her frazzled best to be sympathetic: "Well, you could call again to see if there are any cancellations. What town are you calling from? Oh, New York." Seconds later, she wound up another call:
"Iowa? Frankly, sir, that's a long way to drive on the chance of a cancellation." To a pleading chum, she insisted:
"Honestly, I couldn't even find a room for my own mother." Said her weary...
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