Bloated in Boston
Posted on 2012.11.16 at 17:10
And now I'm at another hotel! With more great carpets which I am photographing this time. Whoever decorates hotels has generally bad taste but an unexpected genius for carpets. This particular genius resides in Boston.
I got $10 free for declining housekeeping service, so I thought I might order lunch off room service. Quesadillas, how delicious. $19.50. Turkey Club, $18.50. Bleu cheese burger, $20. It's amazing this menu can keep a straight face while delivering those prices. And no kidding: "a 15% service charge, 3% administrative charge, $4.50 delivery charge and 7% sales tax will be added to your bill". But of course, the administrative red tape on a BLT and fries must be ghastly.
Maybe I'm just being all country mouse here, and these are only-somewhat-inflated Boston prices. I don't want to be from Texas until I hear about a $30 burger, but then I'll adopt a twangy self-righteousness loud and vehement enough to push creationism through the school board.
I'm a subtle but rather nice herringbone, in navy and cream.
A student brought me her homework and asked "How does your grader grade?"
I said "With silver bells and cockle shells and pretty maids all in a row."
She cocked her head and said "That sounds like something my grandmother would have learned in school."
I thought she'd have gotten the joke, because she's a home-schooled transplant from 1953, well-scrubbed and earnest, with anachronistic headbands and upright posture, and constantly shaking her head at these newfangled peers.
A pleasingly bright blue and black houndstooth, colors falsely muted due to character failing of Heebie
I want to clarify Hawaii's "I'm not going to FOLLOW you" threat that she leverages when she's super pissed. I reread what I wrote and she still sounds cute. Which it is, but that doesn't convey it. What she means is "FUCK YOUR MOTHER INSIDE OUT TO HELL AND BACK" only she doesn't know those words. She's that mad. (What could provoke that anger? Oh, maybe she asked you for help with tying your shoes and you picked the wrong shoe to start with.)
At the wedding they put make-up on Hawaii and did her hair. She came home with hair like cornsilk. It's not that we don't brush her hair, but at best we hack back at the tumbleweeds. For over two weeks now, the tangles have been at bay. What kind of witchcraft. Did they really just brush her hair for three hours? Was the newness and fawning and lack of parents sufficient to keep her sitting there for so long? Can she be a flower girl again in another six months?
I got $10 free for declining housekeeping service, so I thought I might order lunch off room service. Quesadillas, how delicious. $19.50. Turkey Club, $18.50. Bleu cheese burger, $20. It's amazing this menu can keep a straight face while delivering those prices. And no kidding: "a 15% service charge, 3% administrative charge, $4.50 delivery charge and 7% sales tax will be added to your bill". But of course, the administrative red tape on a BLT and fries must be ghastly.
Maybe I'm just being all country mouse here, and these are only-somewhat-inflated Boston prices. I don't want to be from Texas until I hear about a $30 burger, but then I'll adopt a twangy self-righteousness loud and vehement enough to push creationism through the school board.
I'm a subtle but rather nice herringbone, in navy and cream.
A student brought me her homework and asked "How does your grader grade?"
I said "With silver bells and cockle shells and pretty maids all in a row."
She cocked her head and said "That sounds like something my grandmother would have learned in school."
I thought she'd have gotten the joke, because she's a home-schooled transplant from 1953, well-scrubbed and earnest, with anachronistic headbands and upright posture, and constantly shaking her head at these newfangled peers.
A pleasingly bright blue and black houndstooth, colors falsely muted due to character failing of Heebie
I want to clarify Hawaii's "I'm not going to FOLLOW you" threat that she leverages when she's super pissed. I reread what I wrote and she still sounds cute. Which it is, but that doesn't convey it. What she means is "FUCK YOUR MOTHER INSIDE OUT TO HELL AND BACK" only she doesn't know those words. She's that mad. (What could provoke that anger? Oh, maybe she asked you for help with tying your shoes and you picked the wrong shoe to start with.)
At the wedding they put make-up on Hawaii and did her hair. She came home with hair like cornsilk. It's not that we don't brush her hair, but at best we hack back at the tumbleweeds. For over two weeks now, the tangles have been at bay. What kind of witchcraft. Did they really just brush her hair for three hours? Was the newness and fawning and lack of parents sufficient to keep her sitting there for so long? Can she be a flower girl again in another six months?