Monday, July 10, 2006
Hotel Stories…



The hotel’s shower was like a coffin, a green coffin but a coffin nonetheless. I could barely turn my teenage body around in it and I don’t think I’ve ever showered as fast since.

We were heading home from California and a delightful time at Disneyland. Rides had been ridden, food had been eaten and festivals had been attended. A fun time had been had by all. My brother had finally stopped whistling and I knew my eardrums would repair themselves. However I don’t think my brain will ever recover from that hotel room.

The shower was just the tip-off. It felt coffin-like and was the color of puke green. The floor felt wrong and the sink facet was barely able to spit out enough water for one to wash their hands.

The actual room was amazingly bad. They only had a king-size bed with a sofa bed. My brother and Dad volunteered to take the sofa bed so my Mom and I could sleep on the bed. They unfolded the sofa bed and that is when the real troubles began. My Dad described the sofa bed as a torture device. After tossing and turning, it was decided that my Dad would sleep on the king-size bed and my brother would sleep diagonally on the sofa bed so as to avoid the metal pole digging too much into his back. The family was finally able to rest a bit after the re-positioning.

The dog burrowed into the covers and I snuggled up to my pillow. My Dad’s snoring kept me awake for a bit but I was used to it by then and soon drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, we all arose and threw our stuff into the car. I refused to enter that shower again and we headed toward Seattle, trying to shake the memory of the Travel Lodge from our heads.

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