As I mentioned a few posts ago, a few years ago, my neighbor drove his car into my house.
The result was that my roommate and ended up spending about 2 months in a hotel, while the remodeling was finished. Although it was more than a hassle, it was also kind of a fun mini-vacation. Plus, being the Disney Channel fan you know I am, I was pretty excited to have an opportunity to recreate one of my favorite (Disney) shows in real life – The Suite Life of Zack and Cody.
For someone who has managed to skip living in dorms and apartments for her entire life, hotel living was definitely a new experience for me. But besides the random interruptions by a neighbors blaring TV, or the occasional disturbance caused by screaming children stampeding through the halls, it was a pretty easy transition.
By far the best part about living in a hotel for a few months is the fact that you never have to make breakfast. I would stumble down to the lobby in my pjs at 6am, fill my plate, and then stumble back upstairs to bed for another couple of hours. Pancakes? Bacon? Eggs? Cereal? Toast? Bagels? Muffins? Waffles? Fruit? Potato Scrambles? Tea? Coffee? Milk? Juice? You name it, they served it. It was marvelous. I need a personal chef.
One morning, I appeared in my Family Guy pajamas and messy bun, only to discover the entire lobby was filled with troops who were on a training weekend. I started getting dressed for breakfast after that.
Because we were staying in the hotel most commonly referred to by insurance companies, we also got to stay in one of the nicest hotel rooms I’ve ever been in. We had our own kitchen and living room, and we even had our own bathrooms! (The worst part about moving back home was figuring out how two 20-something girls were going to share a tiny bathroom again).
(The sheet’s protecting the chair from kitty claws)
Oh, and how can I forget our favorite downfall – the mini store. Yes, the ice cream is expensive…but it’s there, and someone needs to eat it. We were those someone’s. And we took our job seriously.
As did the cats. Baseball took it upon himself to protect my bathtub from anyone who wanted to run water in it. And he roped in Zooey as his creeper birds-eye-view lookout.
When we finally moved back into our newly patched up house, it took weeks for me to stop driving out of my way, passed the hotel, before remembering we were back on the other side of town. And a few years later I found myself in the same hotel (though a much smaller suite, since I was on my own that time) for several weeks after something died under my house and made it smell like a dead shrimp factory. But that’s a story for another day. Needless to say, I’ll always think of The Marriott as my home away from home.
Where is your home away from home? Have you ever lived in a hotel for an extended period of time? What is your favorite part about staying in hotels? What is your least favorite part?