Velcrometer
Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
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M. Giant's Velcrometer Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks |
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Tuesday, September 03, 2002 Trash and I hadn’t reserved a room in advance of our trip to Seattle. We used to reserve rooms in advance. The last time we tried that, about a year and a half ago, we found ourselves in a Days Inn in New Orleans in the shadow of the Superdome with cinder block walls, way too many funky lifeforms incubating in the bathroom, and some guy relieving himself in the parking ramp (given the condition of the bathrooms, who could blame him?). For this, we had agreed to pay almost eighty bucks a night. We went from having reservations to having profound reservations. Naturally, we decided to see if we could find something better. We got back in our rental car and started trolling through the French Quarter. Those of you who’ve met Trash in person know that she’s got some kind of funky bargain-magnet Mojo going on that allows her to get great deals on stuff for no apparent reason. In New Orleans, she got us a sprawling suite in an eighteenth-century hotel with not only a kitchen, but also a balcony overlooking Decatur Avenue and the Mississippi River. This set us back less than we would have paid for a flop onto a slab of egg-carton foam rubber in a leprous motor lodge with a shared bathroom and a door that doesn’t lock. I don’t know how she does it, so I can’t tell you. Anyway, with that kind of history, we weren’t too worried about finding a place to stay. The Mojo even worked at the rental car counter, where we were able to upgrade to a Chrysler Sebring instead of the rubber-band-powered soda can on wheels we had reserved. That out of the way, we proceeded downtown, fully confident that for a pittance, we’d probably be able to spend a couple of nights someplace really nice, like the Space Needle or something. Interesting thing about Seattle: there seem to be a lot more apartment vacancies than hotel vacancies. While wandering the disorienting patchwork grids, it occurred to us that maybe it would be a little harder to get a good, cheap hotel room during a week that contained not only a holiday, but also the Bumbershoot festival. Oops. We briefly entertained the idea of just finding an apartment and paying a month’s rent, then skipping out when it was time to fly home. That was starting to look like the cheapest way to go. It’s like Seattle is saying, “no, you can’t visit—move in! There’s plenty of room!” Our flight had landed at around 9:00 a.m. local time, and by 1:00 we were arguing over which one of us would get to sleep in the Sebring’s back seat. Finally, we found the Moore Hotel in Belltown, a charming old place with a marble lobby and lots of character (but not too much character, if you know what I mean). They could only guarantee us one night, but Trash worked her Mojo and we were in for as long as we ended up needing. There was no balcony, but we could see the boats on Elliott Bay from our window. As well as a lot of the actual bay. My wife: don’t leave home without her. posted by M. Giant 4:33 PM 0 comments 0 Comments:
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