Hotel California

Welcome to the Hotel California, Such a lovely place (such a lovely place), Such a lovely face. They livin’ it up at the Hotel California, What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise), bring your alibis. Mirrors on the ceiling, The pink champagne on ice, And she said, ‘we are all just prisoners here, of our own device’ And in the master’s chambers, They gathered for the feast They stab it with their steely knives, But they just can’t kill the beast. Eagles

I don’t know about for you but staying in a hotel is kinda weird. Like repeated one-night-stands weird. Because let’s be honest, how thoroughly do you think they clean the room in between guests? And how sanitary is it to live in someone else’s funk night after night?  I should just lay down, legs spread, and turn my head to the side now.

Even worse, your room can be a safe cavern or a prison cell, depending on how long you spend in it. Stuck inside, listening to the noises of the other inmates. Oh look, black 214 is taking their nightly shower.  To my left Charlie is talking to himself again—and he’s getting louder.  Soon he will be banging his head against the wall. Boom, boom—oh it’s started.

Tick tock, click click. Time is mocing and I can feel the minutes. Why is the light blaring from the alarm? Blink, blink those red digital markers are bright. Turn the t.v. on and the whole room is illuminated. Flip, flip, flip—oh five channels! How nice! And there’s nothing on?!? Even better. Uh… where’s the mini bar? Is 2oz of gin really worth $12? Is 2oz ever enough??

Lay down lady. Pillow over head—don’t suffocate. Toss, turn, shift, shake—my sleep cycle dictated by the constant flushing of toilets. How many times do you need to go to the bathroom?

Doze off. The sun comes up—time to roll out of bed: bloodshot eyes, fatigued limbs. What time is breakfast?

I’m getting old—my bones are aching. Stretch. Arms over head, chest jutted forward, back arched, head dipped, yawn. Arms extended overhead, arms down, flex fingers over knees. Time to move. Shower. Lord do I need a shower, after that roll in the hay. Ugh wasn’t even worth laying down.

Trickle, trickle, trickle, what the crap is wrong with the water pressure? Hot scalding, rushing through the motions. Soap, scrub, later, rinse off—no time to savor the heat. Brrr. Hit the tiled floor two feet, ten toes wiggled. Rub, rub, rub. Dew drags whisked away in a brisk fashion.

Left the laid out clothes, why did I pack this? Do I look bloated? That’s it no more dessert from the buffet! Man these pants are tight… Do I have time to hit the onsite gym after the meeting? Hmm… What’s for breakfast?

How long will I be sitting today? Hope my pants don’t ride down to a bloody plumber’s crack. Grr… I need to lose weight! Hit the treadmill, feel the burn. Sigh. What time is breakfast?

Makeup on, hair laid, where are my shoes. Let me oil out this ash. Phone check. Damn that took too long! Ding, ding. Only the elevator ride separates me and cheesy hash soufflé… I mean oatmeal. Looks down at pants—definitely oatmeal. Final check in the reflective doors. Do I look as tired as I feel?

What time can I go back to my cell?

 

 

As always, may the melody move you,

                                                JL

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3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. D.Davis
    Jun 17, 2013 @ 12:10:48

    After about 4-5 days not sleeping in my own bed I’m restless, even when I’m staying at my parents house, a place that I know. So hotels are even worse.

    Reply

  2. Shibby
    Jun 17, 2013 @ 19:34:50

    You know I dislike hotels too many germs! I always take Lysol with me and spray everything. Then I wipe it down with hand sanitizer. I am weird I know:-)

    Reply

  3. Molly B and Me
    Jun 19, 2013 @ 07:46:38

    Been there, done that, ate the cheesy hashbrowns. Thanks for the chuckle

    Reply

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