One week ago, I woke up in Missouri. I had needed to go to my warehouse there for business for a while, but COVID is running rampant there. The St. Louis Cardinals can’t even play baseball. Due to COVID, the Cardinals have played 5 games. FIVE. My hometown Chicago White Sox have already played 19. There’s a serious COVID problem in Missouri.
I didn’t want to stay in any Missouri hotel or motel. I had no plan to stop anywhere at all on the way to the warehouse. I made arrangements to stay in the warehouse overnight, despite that warehouse being the site of a suicide many years ago. Gulp.
They had prepared a nice second floor loft space for me.
Although I brought an air mattress, the bed they had ready was appreciated, sort of.
I ventured out early morning today to the grocery store. Every grocery trip is a death-defying experience in the Age of Covid-19. The store I chose used to be open 24/7/365. Now it opens at 8AM per the guard at the north entrance. Yep, that’s what I read on the sign behind him. He told me I could wait in line. It was 6AM. I chose to walk back to my car past the south entrance where I was told by the guard there that I could walk right in. I’m guessing he recognized me from this blog as a major social media influencer. He probably feared that I could shut down their regional chain of 242 stores with one bad review on this blog.
I returned home as a hero, primarily because of this treasure I had plundered from the store …
I was on the road again this week, and may have discovered the best hotel ever. Okay, so maybe some Trump Hotel properties are nicer, am I right?
I walked into my hotel behind a business dude all dressed up in a fancy suit. I saw him look at me with a bit of disdain. In fairness to him, the jeans I had on were super-faded, threadbare, and frayed. I am sure the biz guy was wondering who the homeless guy behind him stole the nice luggage from that I was rolling behind me.
The biz exec checked in as a Gold member. I saw the welcome sign in the lobby with his name on it under the Gold Member column … right next to my name as a freakin’ Platinum member. The hotel counter worker greeted the biz dude with “Thank you for being a Gold member.” I wanted to somehow, someway keep the businessman in the lobby as I bellied up to the counter to check in just so he would hear the counter guy greet me with, “Thank you for being a Platinum member.” Yes, I can be that petty. However, I let him exit the lobby and I had to be satisified with my Platinum member bonus points.
I was a little bummed until I saw this on my hotel room door …
I headed out the other day on another business trip. As I drove southwest on a beautiful early fall afternoon, I rolled down the windows and enjoyed the feeling of the warm sun on my skin and the wind blowing through my hair … on my arms. I couldn’t help notice that as the sun illuminated my arm hair, it glistened with a reddish hue. Being part Irish, having reddish hair shouldn’t be unexpected, but I hadn’t noticed it before. That was disconcerting, but not as distressing as seeing this when I checked into my hotel room that evening …
I just got back from a business trip. My wife asked me to rate its success on a scale of 1 to 10. Let’s see …
That would be 3 soaps, 3 shampoos, and 5 teas, so I guess that would rate my trip an 11.
I’m on the road again, and I had a welcome gift awaiting me in my room when I checked-in to my hotel night. No, not a mint on my pillow. I found this ready, open, and “broken-in” for my use in my shower …
Being on the road again, I had hoped to bring you some Americana sightseeing tales and pics. However, inclement weather interceded, so I will bring you another travel tip. I know what you’re thinking, “Please, not another post about hotel soap.”
“But … but … hotel soap is an integral part of my business travel,” I protest. How about a Trumpy soap post? I know you want it. Let’s go.
When presented with 2 soap choices, always use the smaller one and take the larger soap home.
Now, I know Trump supporters may struggle with how to determine which is larger and which is smaller. I’ll try and make it relatable for them.
I had never stayed at a Microtel hotel before. I had always been leery of the ‘micro’ part. Was it a very small hotel, or was it a hotel that catered to very small people? I wasn’t sure, but I booked a night at a Microtel in Springfield, IL due to the very small nightly cost.
I was ready for anything, even this.
It looked nicely normal as I walked into the lobby to check in. The indoor pool is always of interest to me, and it was right off the lobby, so I took a peek at the pool. Uh-oh. This sign poolside explained a lot.
Many of you will be traveling over this Thanksgiving weekend.
Meanwhile, I’ll be stuffing my pie hole with, well, pie I guess since I don’t eat turkey.
But I did travel last week, and while I sent you a scintillating story about my hotel room’s light switch, I did not blather in this blog about my bathtub in my other hotel room. It was something special, and something I did not expect from a Super 8. Take a look …
I’m on the road again and was surprised when I tried to turn on the light over the sink in my hotel room.
That was Marty Feldman as Igor in the fabulous movie Young Frankenstein. Full disclosure here. After hours of driving, I did not look as good as Marty Feldman did in that movie.
I really looked more like this …
I’m on the road again for business this week, but decided to stop and see my middle daughter at college along the way. It was a good place to stay for the night as it is about halfway to my business destination, and I found a hotel in town that would cost me all of $45, including tax. More importantly, this hotel did not have a number as part of its name. But how could it be a numberless hotel and be so cheap? I pulled into the parking lot with a bit of trepidation, but it was only one night. I was ready for the worst.
I entered the lobby and sniffed. No smell like I would expect from a $45 hotel. It looked neat and clean. I asked the desk clerk why it was so cheap, er economically-priced I quickly corrected before he could assign me to the murder room with a chalk outline on the floor. He had no idea. “Corporate,” he explained without actually explaining anything.
I continued to sniff like Donald Trump at a press conference as I headed down the hallway to my room. Nothing. I opened the room. Sniff, sniff. Nothing. It was a nice, clean, odor-free room. I was tired and fell asleep faster than if I had been at an actuarial seminar.
I had a good night’s sleep and woke up feeling good. I opened the drapes to see how the morning looked. It looked something like this …
I knew it was going to be a rough business trip this week when I awoke on Tuesday morning, threw back the drapes on my hotel room window, and saw this …
I had been dreading my business trip to Orlando. My dread was not unfounded as it got off to an inauspicious start.
I can’t afford to fly first class, and nothing about me would ever be considered first class. But since I have very long legs, I prefer extra legroom on my flights, so I paid a bit extra to guarantee a seat in the emergency exit row. As I flopped down into my seat, I couldn’t help but notice that it was a tad tight around my tush.
I’m about the only person who considers me fat. I’m 6’1” tall and about 190 lbs. If I convert that to metric, I think that’s 18.25 hands high with a weight of 13.5 stones. Anyway, I’d like to be 6’ 2” tall and 180 lbs. I’ve failed miserably recently at both gaining height and reducing weight. A little less weight would have been nice in that airline seat. Kim Kardashian may have struggled to get all her implants situated in the seat. I am sure there would have been offers of assistance. The bottom (pun intended) line is that the seat was tight for me.
This is the part of the blog post where I walk the line between being politically correct and a jerk. Oh, you thought that was the previous paragraph? Read on if you dare. You have been warned.
As a follow-up to my Pulitzer Prize nominatable blog post about my most recent hotel stay, I may have found a great reason to stay at that hotel again next time, completely unrelated to the leftover free cheese. It’s the view …
No, not that view from the window. This view …
Every month I visit the same company in St. Louis, and have never stayed in the hotel just down the street from the company, until this trip. I think the reason I have avoided this hotel is because it has no pool and I wasn’t aware that this hotel chain was part of my travel rewards program. It still has no pool, but it turns out that it has been part of my travel rewards program only for the last 13 years. Huh. Oh, and no free breakfast is offered. Free breakfasts are an important part of my hotel stays since I tend to take enough food to stretch it well past breakfast in order to cover snacks throughout the day and even lunch.
At check-in, I was pleased to have been offered bonus travel program points, and then settled into my room. Imagine my delight upon seeing this …
My dad bod was on full display at the hotel pool while on vacation last week. Fortunately, every time I hit the hotel pool, there was nobody else there. Maybe the reason the pool was empty was because I hit the hotel pool with my dad bod. Regardless, nobody got to see my dad bod except for my wife, my daughter and my niece, although I swear I caught them averting their eyes.
The dad bod discussion was back on the radio recently as the radio personalities reminded me that 2/3 of women are supposed to prefer the dad bod to a rock hard man bod. This survey was offered as proof …
Many years ago when we had just two kids, my wife and I wanted to take them to Disney World. One of the biggest problems was lack of cash. My wife rejected my idea of hitchhiking down to Florida, and suggested we stay at a modest hotel that offered a free breakfast as a way to save money. Wow, that sounded boring and full of common sense, but that’s what we did. At that free hotel breakfast, we not only ate our morning meal, but we squirreled away food in every pocket and bag we could bring to the breakfast area without arousing suspicion.
Those muffins, boxes of cereal, and fruit became our snacks at Disney throughout the day. After one day of walking a Disney theme park with my pants pocket soaked in grease, I stopped taking bacon.
With that history, I was surprised to see this yesterday morning after breakfast …
I’m not sure how I would feel about our hotel pool if I was a bit older. I noticed this sign at the pool …
As we hit our hotel late Tuesday night, I was encouraged to see this in the hotel bathroom shower …
That’s some quality cleansers available for showering. In addition, I see my wife brought this …
After a wonderful first night on the road for business travel, I reluctantly checked out. I was ready for a letdown. Disappointment was oozing from my pores, but not because I was pondering my substandard business career or failures as a father, husband and friend like I usually do, but because my next hotel was not an Inn & Suites, but just an Inn. There is no way that just an Inn could be as good as an Inn with Suites. I was right. It was not just as good.
After my first night’s decadent stay on the road, I unfortunately found myself checking out in the morning. When I opened my room’s door in the morning, I found this surprising item on the floor outside my room …
It was certainly not a used condom like I am used to seeing in most of the places I normally stay. What could it possibly be?
I’ve hit the road again, but I feel so decadent staying at the hotel I’m at tonight. No, it’s not this one …
But I am breeding a whole colony of bedbugs just in case I ever have the opportunity to stay there. No Trump dump for me. But there is a specific reason I feel so decadent tonight.
In case anyone thinks business travel is glamorous, it actually sometimes is, but more often it is not. Here’s the view from my St Louis area hotel window this week while on the road for business …