Day 2 of the excursion to procure The Pony's special award...which is STILL not a leg lamp!
Let the record show that the Holiday Inn Express lived up to their commercial hype. We had a ground floor suite (meaning we had a king size bed and a couch) which was quiet, close to the breakfast bar, and clean and comfy. The window faced out on a courtyard, and if you glanced left, you could look into the indoor pool enclosure. Not that Thevictorians are peepers or anything.
The Pony preferred to sleep on the couch as it was, and not fold it out. Go figure. This is the boy whose spine is most likely scoliosed, and his skeletal muscles atrophied, due to laying on our basement couch 16/7 when he's off for the summer. AND the boy who, since he was 8, has complained that he hurt his back sleeping on my mom's hide-a-bed (her term for her fold-out couch in the family room) during the Great Icepocalypse of '06. Sheesh! You'd think he was Elaine sleeping on Helen and Morty's sofa bed at Del Boca Vista on the trip where Jerry took Jack Klompus's astronaut pen.
But we're not here to discuss Thevictorian sleeping arrangements, my friends. We're here to discuss the Holiday Inn Express free breakfast bar.
Let the record show that this was not our actual breakfast bar. Ours was even longer. In fact, they had to put the juices and coffee across the room on a separate bar. Oh, the bounty spread out before me! Pancakes, cheese omelettes, pork sausage patties, turkey sausage patties, bagels, cream cheese, biscuits, gravy, jellies, BUTTER (that's for The Pony, a true Butterton), muffins, danishes, cinnamon rolls, cereals, oatmeal, milk, yogurt, bananas, apples, oranges...and more that I'm sure I'm forgetting. Val showed restraint, my friends. While she secretly longed for one of each, with maybe seconds on biscuits and gravy...she limited herself to a single omelette, a single sausage patty, half a bagel, and a foil tube of cream cheese. Water to wash it down.
The Pony opted for a pancake swimming in Loch Syrup, a biscuit slathered with butter, a cinnamon roll, and two cups of orange juice. Hick went all out. He had two overflowing plates of biscuits and gravy, four sausage patties, an omelette, and 3 cups of orange juice. But let the record show that Hick would be departing for France at 7:05 p.m., so he needed something to stick to his ribs for a transatlantic flight. After the last meal at Genius's special award dinner, he knew he would not be getting his sustenance there. As I recall, we had a sliver of chicken, and three noodles that might have been rigatoni or penne with a dab of red sauce, plus three scraps of lettuce, and a tiny nondescript dessert that may or may not have been cake based.
But we're not here to discuss the Holiday Inn Express breakfast bar, my friends. Val misspoke. She was flying high on a rising blood sugar tide after eating more than she usually has by 6:00 p.m. As I told The Pony, "I could live here and feed throughout the day!" He did not much like that idea. But Hick was a kindred spirit when I told him that a person would be wise to have breakfast at 7:00, then return at 10:30 to eat again for a free lunch. We're hillbillies like than. Anyhoo...the point was moot, because we had that special awards dinner to attend at noon.
Now let's get to the point. What I sat down to tell you at the outset from inside my room down the hall from the breakfast bar.
A LADY SHOWED UP IN HER SLIP!
That's right! There I was, slicing off a segment of omelette to accompany my portion of sausage, when I looked up to see a middle-to-late-aged woman striding across the carpet in a black slip. Oh, there was no mistaking it. IT WAS A SLIP! Thin straps like bra straps with that little plastic ring hooking the business boob-covering part to the strap. The length was barely covering her ample buttocks. I declare! When she leaned over to ladle out some gravy onto her biscuit, I SAW LONDON AND FRANCE, and no evidence whatsoever of underpants!
I was shocked. Hick was shocked. The people in line behind Slippy were shocked. The Pony? Not so much. His back was to her. But I did get his attention as she walked across the room to get coffee. "Meh. Looks okay to me." That boy is just not worldly enough to grasp the gravity of this situation. The breakfast bar tender came as soon as Slippy got in line. I'm pretty sure they have a closed-circuit surveillance camera on that area. She watched a minute. But did not pursue a conversation. I guess since no parts were dangling out, she let it slip. Get it? Let it SLIP! Heh, heh. I crack myself up sometimes.
Not sure what was going on with that woman. At first I thought she was barefoot, but then I saw flesh-colored slippers like ballet shoes without that annoying wooden block in the toe or the twiny ribbons up the calf. Slippy was tousle-headed. She brought a round tray that she scammed from somewhere, and filled it with food. Then she left. I thought perhaps she might have been running on unmetabolized Ambien fumes. An oblivious sleepwalker. She chatted with folks at the coffee machine. Then made her exit.
Anyhoo...the Holiday Inn Express free breakfast bar was great, even though the AMBIENce was somewhat questionable.