I’ve always loved hotel rooms. Swiping the lock and taking
the first steps into an exotic new space has always brought an unreasonable
feeling of giddiness over me. Perhaps it was the excitement of a new, albeit
temporary, homestead. Growing up I had done no shortage of traveling as my
family was fond of roadtrips around the southeast. Though we were very much of
the “drive all day and stay with family ilk, resulting in a stay at the Holiday
Inn feeling like a true luxury. Dad’s absolute refusal to stay in anything
other than the cleanest of rooms no doubt also helped shield me from a lot of
potential negative hotel experience.
Going on into the middle and high school years hotel rooms took
on the feel of a rented Ford Mustang. A little hopping on the bed, sure, why
not, press that accelerator down just a bit (full disclosure, this still
happens from time to time). Though, much like with rental cars I’ve refrained
from going completely buck wild because of possible ramifications, both moral and financial. Clearly others are more comfortable flooring it in theirtemporary playground.
Now after about three months on the road some of the giddiness
has subsided just a tad. Every new room is greeted with a check of what amenities
it does or doesn’t have, though I’m easy to please. At least give me a treadmill
and a laundry room and I won’t complain. Fortunately I’ve been staying at very
nice hotels, so I still have yet to run into any horror stories. Hotel rooms may
have moved from being an exotic luxury to a commodity to me, but fortunately
they’ve remained a commodity I rather enjoy. Having your own staff of housekeepers
is easy to get used to.
1 comment:
I like that Title
"Hotels into Hometels"
Your Dad is more pickie than ever about clean rooms. We have passed up many and driven on till we find the best. I kinda like that about Him!
Don't let those maids spoil You!
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