I don’t know how they sleep at night with all those dandelions in the yard.
It took until late Saturday afternoon for my digestion to return to normal. Too much rich dairy. Sometimes I miss the iron-clad innards of my youth.
My last comment about motel doom: there was one point during the middle of the whole thing where I looked at Bob and said, “You know this is going to be really funny later.”
Every time we were in the room together yesterday we would start cracking up.
In case you’re wondering, the worst hotel room we’ve ever been in was in Frankfurt which was another time we didn’t plan for a room in advance and just wung it. I suppose there’s a lesson to be learned.
The story at the link doesn’t do it justice. The room wasn’t ready when we arrived so we had to leave our luggage and come back after dinner. When we returned they took us through some sort of storage yard to this horrible dinky room which was probably a converted garage or shed. It was dark and raining sideways so we didn’t want to leave. I don’t remember it being stinky. The TV was broken and the bed was like two pieces of plywood set up on bricks (slight exaggeration). We shared the wall with some sort of belly dancing place so it was noisy. There was a table with a glass top and if you touched it, it slid off.
Bob went to take a shower and it was one of those handheld showerhead dealies that you can either hold or hook to the wall. Bob got the water going and then shimmied into the tiny shower stall and when he put the showerhead up the hook broke and the showerhead fell and since the room was so tiny it actually fell out the bathroom door and onto the glass tabletop which fell down and there was a spray of water in the middle of the room.
That actually was funny at the time. But only to me.