"Anybody who believes that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach flunked geography." - Robert Byrne

In the general run of things I think of hotel room service as manna in the wilderness...generally edible sustenance...delivered to me when I am in one of the no-man's-land of hotels that are near to absolutely nothing...after a long trek from points A to B (usually with a detour to C...which I didn't know existed until the plane touched down). But, every so often...after a particularly bad day...when I've dragged two heavy bags (and a walking cast)...to the furthest gate in two airports...and been watched by three cabs drivers as I hauled the selfsame bags (and cast) towards their waiting cabs...and met not one, single, solitary ounce of chivalry...something more is required. If, that is, I'm lucky enough to be within limping distance of a decent grocery store.

Then, my friends, the world is suddenly a brighter place...thanks to...black truffle and white cheddar popcorn...rosemary olive oil bread...garlic and herb soft cheese...applewood smoked prosciutto...and miniature blueberry frangipane tarts.

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Combine the above with an evening of NCIS reruns...and free internet access...and this could be as good as it gets...

 
 
 
 

Post a Comment 1 comments:

  • Jennifer said...
    8:52 PM
    Yummy snacks and a marathon of NCIS? Sounds like a perfect night to me! Except, of course for that walking cast... I hope you're healing well!

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