Hotel rooms are nightmare

Ever since I started working for the Florida vacation home site, I've been bothered by recurring nightmares. I am haunted at night by the spirit of hotel rooms past.

There was a time when I traveled quite a bit on business. Fortunately, I do not make hotels hop anymore. But at night I'm floating in a hotel room far away in time …

Today's work is done, I called home to check the children. It seemed that there was a shouting battle going on in my absence. It seemed as though Pandemonium won, but Total Bedlam also made some noise.

"Can you just ask a little," I said to the phone.

"You stop," I heard the man in the next room moaning.

I chose to ignore him. "Come on guys. Can not you just stop fighting for a moment?"

"I want to show you what the fighting means" I heard through the wall.

"Geeze. I can not even think of myself," I complained to the phone.

"Hi! I had almost enough of you," shook the guy on the other side of the wall.

Suddenly I became very scared. I picture a burly, six-foot-two weightlifter smashing his fist through the wall. I hung the phone wondering how thin the walls were.

Nothing happened. No fist. No broken wall. No burly, six foot-two weightlifters.

I decided to go down for a stress-relief stroll. When I closed my door, the man from the next room came forward.

Fortunately, he was no weight lifter.

I was asking him why he had shouted at me through the wall while trying to discipline my children when he called to me: "Hi you?"

I suddenly understood how thin the walls were.

In fact, I discovered that the walls of the hotel come in two thicknesses:

If you're lucky you get "Reduce the volume of your TV!" walls. If you are less lucky you get "Turn off the brightness of your TV!" walls.

Fortunately, hotel rooms are immaculately clean. It is true. The sign says it. As long as you do not look under the mattress to find a 1976 copy of Businessweek Magazine and theater tickets for a 1982 exhibition of The Music Man.

I do not know why hotels pretend to be so spotless. All the unwanted under the bed could be used as a marketing tool. "Stay at Hilltop Hilton and join our underground mattress-scavenger-hunt."

If the hotels do not catch, the motels will sooner or later. They can do something for a sales pitch. Such as. "Color TV" (Ooooooohh.). And "Outdoor Pool" (I think the "outdoor" feature is a good addition, not?) And what about "Free Parking" (which really is a way to say "You do not have to park your car in your room." ).

What concerns me most about hotels is what they hold in the drawers. Have you ever noticed that there is always a Bible in the drawer? Why?

When you buy a car, there is no Bible in the glovebox, although the road is where you need beans most.

When digging for the prize at the bottom of the Cracker Jack box, it's never a bible.

Even in hospitals, where a prayer may be all you have left, there is no Bible in the drawer.

Only in hotels and in death row, Bibles come as standard equipment.

And why just the Bible? I have had plenty of free time to search for Torah and Qur'an in hotel rooms, and I have never found anyone. Do not Jews and Muslims become in hotels? What do they know that I do not?

Fortunately, I do not have to stay at hotels anymore. I do not have to finish shadow marion shows from the guy on the other side of the wall. I do not have to read his shoulder. I'm not worried about what he ate for dinner.

And I do not have to listen to his snoring. I can enjoy my own nights in peace.



Source by David Leonhardt