Holy Crap, What a Hotel Room

As part of the moving process from the condo to the new house, the wife and I have to stay in a hotel. She got us a nice room at the Wardman Park Marriott, and all was just fine the first night. Her mom crashed with us and though it was a little tight it could have been worse.

This morning, though, I awoke to discover that my mother-in-law secured us a "larger" room, and holy shit did she ever. Check out the photos of this joint. I think Kenneth Branagh filmed Hamlet here. By my quick count, this hotel "room" has 5 rooms, 3 bathrooms and a kitchen. Above the fireplace, there is a painting of some weird old lady (and I am sure she is smiling because who wouldn't who stayed in this room?).

The three os us quickly dispersed around the place, each taking up residence in a different room with a different TV and Internet connection. There are times when we are walking around and we have no idea where each of us are. We ate dinner tonight (Vace pizza) in the enormous dining room just because we felt like it was paramount to use every room at least once. The wife even tickled the ivory on the piano in the sitting room. Oh yeah, that is right folks, we have an effing piano in our hotel room. And it's not some piece of crap electric casio, either.

Needless to say, I am not nearly as distressed about crashing at a hotel as I may have been. I was worried that five nights in a hotel was going to test the limits of my sanity, but now I am getting to know the rich live on a regular basis. And I hate them that much more for it. But, then again, this is ridiculous living. I found that this room normally goes for well over a grand per night. Thank heavens for Marriott points. When they had Obama's Inaugural Ball here, I do wonder who perhaps crashed in this room. Be cool to think that Beyonce or someone fresh lived it up here before the Campbell/Crawford group strolled in.