This Hotel I Want to Live In

My hotel luck seems to be improving. A few days ago, I spent a night in a seriously crappy hotel. Now, I get to stay in a place that is nicer -- heck, bigger -- than some apartments I have lived in.

For the next week I'm in a southern coastal city for an NEH workshop on African American life in the Sea Islands. I got here a day early because the last time that I went to an NEH workshop, I had very very bad airline karma. In fact, I wouldn't even call it "karma," I'd just call it a slightly worse than typical day for the airlines. That time, I ended up having to rent a car and drive 12 hours overnight in order to arrive on time -- and I still missed the check-in and welcome reception, and was exhausted for the duration of the workshop.

This time, things seem to be going well, even with connecting flights. In fact, the worst thing that has happened so far was that I had to have my luggage opened and searched at the airport, which has become routine for me at that airport.

The airport in question, being quite small, seems to have a lot of time on their hands at security. Never at one of the major airports have they required that everyone take their liquids baggie out of their suit case. They do here. Then, after how many years of having to use the damn baggie, they took time out of their schedule to inform me that the bag I was using was too big and that I need to use the smaller, sandwich sized bag. Since when?

You see, I need lots of liquids. I've got shampoo and conditioner and hairspray and peroxide and mouthwash and make-up and lotion and moisturizer and, well, after a certain age the youthful good looks require significant backup! I need the half-gallon size baggie, not the PBJ on diet bread sized baggie.

Anyway, the security woman was kind enough not to make me transfer all of my stuff into the smaller baggie, which she seemed about to do until she saw the line backing up. Thank you large family with lots of baby crap! Still, they decided they had to unpack my suitcase anyway. "Every fucking time," I said to no one in particular.

I got them back, though. A guy had to do the searching and I had feminine hygiene products -- extra absorbent -- in my suitcase. The second he saw "Kotex," the search ended. Yep, they have some hardened law enforcement officers working for Homeland Security.

My flight, of course, was late; (every fucking time) but the connection was late too. The storm system along the east coast kept all delays coordinated, as long as the flights were going roughly north and south. So, I arrived without any great event only two hours later than originally planned. Heck, I even ended up sitting next to an ex-cop from the area who is also a member of the state historical society that is sponsoring this workshop. He and his wife saved me $35 in cab fare by giving me a lift to the hotel, along with some tips for good restaurants in walking distance.

The hotel, however, was the crowning glory of the day -- perhaps of the week. First of all, when I opened the door to the room, my face was greeted with the sweet sweet kiss of artificially cooled air. Nor was the air tainted with the reek of mold. No, I breathed the lovely offgassing of brand new textiles and paint. That means that I can pretty much count on cleanliness. The place isn't old enough to have accumulated too many mutant microorganism.

So, cleanliness and climate control: two of my requirements already met!

Next, as you can see, I have an internet connection. In fact, they have an ethernet cord, just in case the wifi doesn't work. That, I must say, is above and beyond the call of duty. They also have HBO, which, as I wrote before, reminds me why that's not so much a requirement anymore (at least not now that the season of Treme is over); but it is on a huge flatscreen.

As for breakfast, not only do they have bagels and coffee, but they have promised stuff like eggs and bacon. We shall see how that stacks up tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, I kinda don't need the complimentary breakfast that much because this room has taken the microfridge to a new level. It has a whole kitchen. I mean a full-sized refrigerator, a dishwasher, a microwave, a coffee maker, a toaster, silverware, plates, and just about anything else you might need. Heck, it even has an automatic ice maker in the freezer. My own damn refrigerator at home doesn't have that. In fact, I think the only thing that this kitchen doesn't have is a blender, so no pina coladas.

Then, we have the bathroom. Now THAT'S a bathroom! You could fit three of my own bathrooms into this one. Plus, the full length mirrors are skinny mirrors. Who doesn't like that?

What I have here, then, is a room worth every penny charged (and it is a few more than 500 pennies, even with the workshop rate).

I forgot the damn cord that lets me put pictures from my phone onto my computer. Otherwise, I'd show you the pictures that I took of it. Rest assured, no non-me hair is twisted into the fibers of the linens.

Well done, historical society people in charge of reserving this hotel. Well done!