In which I fall in love with a Howard Johnson…
Some people call it heaven. I just call it the Howard Johnson by the Airport.
I’m going to blame jet lag on the fact that I didn’t take any photos, but imagine if you will giant beds with four (!) pillows, a flat screen television, a marble bathtub and shower, robes hanging on the bathroom door, and two (that’s right, two) toilet paper dispensers. Used to reaching to the left for your Charmin? No problem! More of a right turner? We’ve still got you covered!
Very jet lagged, The Rocket Scientist and I settled in to watch Blue Crush, which we thought was a very good movie to watch while in California until we remembered that 1) Blue Crush takes place in Hawaii and 2) Blue Crush is not a good movie.* But, too tired to figure out how to work the fancy remote for the fancy TV, we watched it anyway.
The only reminder that we weren’t in an incredibly swanky hotel** was when we opened the curtains to see that we were right across the street from Liquor Locker House of Kegs. Really fancy hotels are across the street from a Liquor Locker House of Cristal. I’m sad to report that the standard of our hotels only went downhill from there, and the rest of our trip was spent saying, “Eh, it’s alright, but it’s no Howard Johnson by the Airport…”
*I have a personal beef with one of the actresses’ names. Whenever I turn narcissistic and Google myself (as we’ve all done, don’t deny it), le internet always asks me if I meant her name instead. No, Google, no I didn’t.
**I fully understand that for those of you who have stayed at places like The Ritz, this description doesn’t sound all that swanky. But, having been a Motel 8 sort of girl all my life, I just have this to say: The room had a fridge AND a microwave! Top that, Ritz.
You should see the Ho Jo in our town. You would not want to go there after dusk, or maybe even before.
A “Liquor Locker House of Kegs”?!?! I think the hubs and I need to make a pilgrimage …