At approximately 12:30 P.M. today I arrived at St. Louis.
At 8:30 P.M. my bags arrived.
I’d make a comment about that, but it makes me too pissed off.
I’m not sure what to think about this place. It’s strange… St. Louis doesn’t smell right.
Anyway. This hotel is gorgeous. It’s the [Deep Reverberating Voice] Hyatt Regency at the Union Station![/Deep Reverberating Voice]. It’s built in an old train stration, which means vaulted arches, giant ceilings, and train models like you wouldn’t believe. Basically, it’s built with little expense spared to imply that no expense was spared. The place is both a first-class hotel and a pretty nice shopping mall, all rolled into one converted train station.
My room is nice. A few minor problems. Not enough coffee packets for the tiny little one-cup coffee maker.
I’ll be posting pictures of all of this later, by the way. You know, in case you care and all that.
That’s okay. I made up for all of it by going to the little restuarant in the hotel… speaking of no expense spared. I went with the express intention of pretending to be rich. The conversation with the waiter went something like this:
“Good evening sir. Can I get you a glass of wine?”
“May I see the wine list?”
“Here you are.”
“Hmmmm.”
“If you need a minute, I can return shortly.”
“Actually, I already knew what I wanted. I’d like the house White Zinfandel. I just wanted to look at the list.”
“I see. Whatever for?”
“I’m considering becoming rich.”
“Very… well.”
“I’m not actually rich, you see, but just seeing if it’s something I want to persue. Tomorrow night for dinner, my plan is to go into the shopping mall and eat at the Hooters on the 3rd floor. That way I can compare between utter economic splendor and financial mediocrity. My assumption is that financial mediocrity offers better hot wings and more T & A.”
“Very good sir. Any appetizers this evening?”
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