…being a kid in a hotel.
Mr. POTL and I slipped away to New York City for a night for a friend’s fortieth birthday party. There are so many things that are out of place with this sentence. Forty? (I was thinking we were still in our early 30′s.) New York City? Us? We occasionally go out in the neighboring suburb. Slipping away? We definitely don’t slip anywhere, not even to the bathroom, without our kids following us. But somehow the moon, the stars, the planets, and all other celestial matters aligned so that we could get out of town. My parents took the kids, and we drove away.
Usually when we’re in a hotel, we’re with the kids, and check-in goes something like this. Me: “Hey, stay over here. Watch out for that lady. Hold on a minute. Watch out for that man. Say ‘excuse me.’ I’m sorry, Sir. You know we’re checking in; it takes a while. Do you want to go to the park later? Then get over here.” By the time we get to our room, I’m sweating, and I can’t even tell you what the lobby looked like. My M.O. is to pass through the lobby as quickly and surreptitiously as possible. We scurry back and forth each time we enter and exit. I keep my head down.
I then grabbed Mr. POTL and made him take a picture with me:
Mr. POTL gets to stay in hotels without kids, so this wasn’t quite the event for him, but (as usual) he humored me. Who danced in the blue (blue?) elevator to the rave music? Us. (But I had the camera, so I have the proof.)
I was like Borat in the cheese section-”And what is thees? And thees?” or Daryl Hannah, as the mermaid in Splash. “Oh my! Look at this!”
Mr. POTL laughed, “Yes, that’s the bar. Mmm-hmmm. Chairs. Mmm-hmmm. Snacks.” And we hadn’t even left the lobby.
I don’t know how to play pool, but guess who played? Me. Simply because there was a pool table in the lobby. I would’ve swung on a trapeze, wrestled in Jello, or flipped on a trampoline if those had been options.
The bar opened at 5:00. We were sitting there waiting at 4:45 because I was drawn to it by its neon lights. So sparkly. So shiny. So silvery.
By the time we left, I was trying to buy one of the spinning pod chairs from the concierge. They were going to get rid of them to get new ones that had i-pod hook-ups. I was trying to find a way to purchase one. And take it home. A spinning pod chair. I wanted to bring a piece of that hotel back to my home. Or maybe I just wanted to bring the pool playing, chair spinning, elevator dancing kid in me back home.
prompt from http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/blog/ - to write about the last time you stayed in a hotel.