Tuesday, March 21, 2017

You Might Want to Take Some of Those Little Alcohol Wipes with You if You Stay at The Sis-Approved Hotel

This story will wrap up our series on Casinopalooza. There, there. No need to weep. Turn that frown upside down! You still have two tales coming from our visit with The Pony.

On Saturday night at The Sis-Approved Hotel, Val lay on her side of the bed, counting out her money. Hick slipped into something more comfortable (can't get much more comfortable than stripping down to tighty-whities...you're welcome, Sioux, for that image) while packing up his suitcase over on the couch across the room from the foot of the bed.

"It's cold in here. I can't hardly feel my hands to count this money. I'm freezing."

"I'm not."

"I was cold last night, UNDER THE COVERS!"

"I was hot."

"Duh. All you had to do was uncover if you were hot."

"It's only cool when the air is blowing."

"I guess I'll get up and check that thermostat for myself. You're not getting the hint." (Hick rarely picks up what I'm layin' down.)

Hick stumped over to the thermostat, on the wall at the end of the couch. "The thermostat is fine. It's 74."

"I'm awfully cold for 74."

"I don't know what you want me to do, Val."

"I don't want you to do anything. Keep scratching your butt and touching the thermostat."

"There. The heat is on now."

"What?"

"It wasn't on. The air conditioning was on."

"What's the REAL temperature in here?"

"69."

"NO WONDER I'M COLD! We don't keep it THAT low at home! So I guess it really WAS cold in here, huh? Not just crazy ol' Val making things up again."

Funny how Hick had no response. If I didn't know better, I'd think he is finally learning, after 27 years of being married to Val.

11 comments:

  1. Oooh. The tighty-whitey image. The idea of him scratching his butt and then putting his fingers all over different surfaces in the hotel... It makes me shudder.

    O
    M
    G

    Maybe I have stayed at the same hotel and in the same room as Hick--but weeks or months or years after him? Since I know how little hotel rooms get cleaned, perhaps I will never stay in a hotel or motel again...

    Yikes.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I believe you mentioned somewhere that you had stayed at the same hotel. Ask for Room 308 next time. Do not take a petri dish filled with agar.

      Delete
  2. Take his tightie-whities and put them in the freezer.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Stephen, I thought you were nicer than that (but that's a funny idea)!!

      Delete
    2. Contrary to select blog-readers' opinion...life with Hick is not exactly a 13-year-old sleep-over!

      What if I did that, and then Sioux stayed in that room, and put some free breakfast yogurt in that freezer to make her own frozen yogurt?

      You, sir, could be an accessory to Madam's murder!

      Delete
  3. I have the same too hot, too cold battle with Mrs. C.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Then I'm sure you realize: ain't nobody happy if the missus ain't happy.

      Delete
  4. "Scratch your butt and touch the thermostat." Now I will have to carry my personal sized can of Lysol everywhere I go.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Better get a bigger purse and spring for the large economy size Lysol.

      Delete
  5. My daughter has a routine for just such happenings. When she enters a hotel room she begins sanitizing things that are never cleaned by housekeeping. The remote control, any thermostat controls, the shower curtain is sprayed down and the bedspread removed. I assured her that she was perfectly normal as I got into my bed after I turned the bedspread over and placed it low enough to fold the sheet over it .....

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You could start a room-sanitizing service!

      Delete