In the past 10 years I’ve gone from almost never (count on one hand how many times) to a Platinum Club member.
I still feel guilty that a three night stay in a hotel is more expensive than my first apartment.
I am a middle tier hotel patron. I like to be able to walk around in shorts, t shirts, and sandals late into the fall. I am uncomfortable when the person at the front desk’s makeup is better than mine will ever be. I like attention, but not too much.
I am wary of valet parking, but will use it if I’m downtown in a city.
I’ve learned that tipping well early is really worth doing. I hate myself when on the last day I’m there; I tip the bellman, who is not the same guy who has been helping me all week.
I hate mini-bars. They are expensive and seductive. I have been ignoring them, it helps that I don’t drink. I’ve known people who have become active alcoholics on the road. Shades of Willy Loemann.
I also hate pay for service internet access. If I were stuck in an airport in a snowstorm I would consider buying into a service, but I appreciate free access. I don’t like extra fees.
I almost always empty my travel bags into the dresser or drawers provided, and hang up pants and jackets in the closet. (I don’t always do that at home, go figure.) Sometimes I do it because I’m concerned about wrinkles, but that doesn’t explain socks and underwear. I think it’s something my mother did the few times I stayed in a hotel room with her.
I have a habit of sleeping with my head at the foot of the bed, or diagonally across the bed. I do this at home too, when I’m having trouble falling asleep. I guess I’m assuming I’ll have trouble falling asleep in a strange room, so I do it in anticipation of trouble, prophilactically.
I read the brochures and information packages in the room. I check out the restaurant, art supply, and fabric store listing in the Yellow Pages in a town I don’t know well.
I try not to use room service. I prefer to bring things in from outside, or even better, arrange to have dinner with a friend if I have one in the town I’m staying in.
If I’m driving from place to place, I overpack outrageously. If I’m flying I can do better.
The Art of the Day is: The art of Urban Camping
posted by the other Joan @ 9:10 AM
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