12 January 2012

Hotel Rooms, Pizza Buttons and Burning Bags of Shit

We ended the night... er morning in a hotel room because it's just been that kind of week. My house had gotten fairly uncomfortable and I decided to maintain my overall method of dealing with unpleasant things by simply avoiding them.


So, M, T and I made it back to the hotel room after a particularly circus like evening at the bar. For real? There were three bar fights, all of the liquor ran out at approximately the same time that night and the boss and T kept calling me over and over just to make me crazy. It was a damn circus and I was thoroughly disgusted with just about any and every thing and one in close proximity.


I drove the three of us back to the hotel, almost listening to M ranting in the backseat with unusual intensity and a whole lotta "fuck" thrown in for good measure. Once we make it into the hotel and up to the third floor, M and T decide that they should absolutely knock on random doors and then run away.


There is then a debate about whether or not the knocking and running should involve burning dog shit. Since there is an absence of dog shit in the hotel hallways... M offers to shit in the bags and then they can set it on fire. T is not as lit as M and he thankfully declines. Otherwise I would have had to have locked them out of the hotel room.


Once inside the room, T discovers that there is a "Pizza" button. M proclaims that she will be happy with a single piece of pizza... Hell she will happy with a single bite from a single piece of pizza. T decides that if pizza will shut M up he will order us pizzas. He pushes the pizza button as the clock nears 5 am and finds that the pizza button goes directly to the hotel lobby and not to any local pizza parlor. The girl at the front counter seems to be just as confused as T.


When M tells me that she absolutely knows that they have cookies in the lobby and begins looking at the phone in hopes of finding a "Cookie" button, I forbid them both from using the phone at all.


T convinces M to stroll down to the lobby in her pajamas and proclaim to be the cookie monster in a voice that doesn't even remotely resemble the actual cookie monster. M should have declined.. but she didn't. She grabs the key card and runs down to the lobby where she discovers that there are not cookies, but that there is a continental breakfast spread that offers cinnamon waffles.


M is positively enthralled in the process of making waffles. She is maybe jumping up and down while clapping her hands like a child. I am packing my things because I am reasonably sure that we are all about to be kicked out of the hotel.


Instead of kicking us all out, the lady from the breakfast thing suggests that M return to the room and get the tray that is under the ice bin as that would be a bit more effective in carrying the massive amounts of food that she is trying to pile onto plates.


So she brings her food up and T suggests that she go back down and get food for the rest of us. M doesn't realize that she has already done so until she get back down to the lobby with the tray... so in an effort to not look like a drunk on a fool's errand she piles more food onto the tray and contains her excitement over the awesome waffles.


On one hand... I am grateful for the silence as well as the food. On the other hand, I wonder how many guests are going to be complaining about some random knocking on their doors in the wee hours of the morning. I also make a note to bring pizza and cookies everywhere we go, as these all but assure M's silence at the height of her drunkenness.