Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Hotel Lounging

(from earlier last year)

Dear Friends:

I'm sitting in a hotel lounge in Vancouver on a wireless LAN for a quick email-check before I head up to bed. Just moments ago a lady walked straight through the lounge to the bar and asked the bartender (in a very annoyed tone) "WHERE is the hotel lounge?" as if he, personally, were responsible for misplacing the hotel lounge. I couldn't see his face from across the room, but I'd give all the crazy Canadian money in my wallet for a better seat to that show.

Now, I'm not a smart man, but I know a hotel lounge when I see one. You'll know it too when you're there. It’s a magical place. You will hear early-80s-vintage bar music. You will see a very large blonde woman in a business suit. There will be too many candles. Shrimp will be referred to as "prawns." Massive windows will look out upon a deserted pool. Garish houseplants will be in abundance. A rather shortish man in his late 30s will approach you and say, "welcome to the hotel lounge at the Hilton." Then, this man will call you "sir."* Only THEN, my friends - if the sign out front, the bartender, the maitre'd, the baggage drop, the elevator, the valet, and the patrons were no indication to you….THEN! You will know you're in a hotel lounge.

I don't know how you feel about it, but if I ever ask a question that dumb in public it should be an indication to you that I am never going to be useful again. If that happens and you are my friend; you will immediately take me out back and beat me until I either come to my senses or scream, "UNCLE!!!" - whichever comes first...

All the best from Canada.


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