I’ve been in Long Beach, CA for the past week. Hubby had to come down for work and I decided to tag along since a week without having someone keep me on my toes is too dangerous. Our small waste basket and sink can only handle a few days’ worth of Chipotle containers and dirty wine glasses.
Before this trip, I used to wonder about all those people who ordered pricey room service, ate at the mediocre hotel restaurant instead of charming local eateries and raised a fuss about things like not having Wi-Fi everywhere. Horror of all horrors, I became one of them. Staying at a hotel for work is a vastly different experience than being there as a leisure tourist. Especially when you’re a writer and need to spend hours at a time fixed to one spot so that you can churn out something remotely cohesive. I ate at the mediocre hotel restaurant. I ordered room service. I let out a sigh of exasperation when I learned about the extra charge for Internet access. Really, if cafes can provide free Wi-Fi, why can’t a high-end hotel? I started to make a mental list of everything that inconvenienced me. I wasn’t out and about enjoying everything that Long Beach has to offer; all I wanted to do was get through my work day so that I could join Hubby for a quick dinner before falling asleep to HBO.
As I sat inside in the hotel room day after day, I began to wonder about all the noises outside the door. Who are all of these people walking through the hallways and slamming their doors? Are they here for fun or, like us, for business? Did they just come back from the gym? Why is she giggling so much? Can my neighbor hear me flush my toilet and shower too?
I was so glad to come home to my tiny apartment, even if the only things waiting for me is a ton of laundry and accumulated mail. There truly is no place than home. Since tomorrow is Thanksgiving, I’d like to say I am truly thankful for not having to travel much for work. A leisure traveler I happily am!