Monday, July 26, 2010
Bed and I Think Not
So I'm at the pool and a couple of my friends were discussing where to go for an upcoming 40th birthday party. Sounded like the birthday girl was not looking for something totally obvious like Vegas. Can't say I blame her. I freaking HATE Vegas with the flaming passion of my race. You know what they say about those fiery Scots/Irish!!!!! Actually we're probably more likely to puke on your shoes than fly into a passionate rage but that's another issue altogether. Anyway, these girls somehow came up with wine country. Wine country is cool if you're looking for a mellow celebration. I get this. What I don't get is Bed and Breakfasts, which was brought up as a possible form of accommodation. I would rather be forced to sit through Siegfried and Roy with a group of conventioneers in a continual loop than stay in a Bed and Breakfast. I would rather be trapped in the fucking Carousel of Progress in Disney World. Wait. That actually happened. Okay, it's a toss-up between the Bed and Breakfast and the Carousel. First of all, the sort of people that decide to open B and B's attract the sort of people that want to stay in them. I do not get any of them. Unless they're gay men and then we can hang. I love me my gays. We're talking the tea drinking, chintz decorating, straw hat wearing ilk. That like to chat. I don't think so. When I'm on vacation, I want a nice, private room. I don't want a brass bed, I don't want doilies, I don't want tea and I don't want to talk to you. Which means I REALLY, REALLY do not want to have breakfast with you. What if I was at some resort, enjoying my freshly squeezed orange juice and oh.....THE PEOPLE I CHOSE TO VACATION WITH and the manager comes up and pops a squat and wants to start chatting about his family? I DON'T CARE AND I WANT YOU TO GO AWAY. Half the time I don't like talking to people I DO know so being forced to make idle chit-chat with complete strangers I will (hopefully) never see again is SO not on my bucket list. Shouldn't any self-respecting vacationer be too hungover to come downstairs (in some strangers house no less) freshly showered and wearing a nice pair of freshly pressed dockers (with shirt tucked in) or some permanent press (perfect for travel!) sundress? I'm more of the "Jesus H. Christ, what happened last night" kinda gal. That's how my vacations roll. Just say "no" to the B and B. For me.