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Adventures in booking hotel rooms

Ava wanted to know if I wanted my own hotel room when we were out of town or if we just wanted to bunk together. “Of course, you can have your own, but just know I’ll be over there all the time anyway.”

Of course, I picked the sleepover. It just seemed stupid not to. We’re compatible roommates.

Ava got to the hotel first on Sunday and she texted me that the room was HUGE. And when I arrived on Wednesday night I agreed. The hotel was lovely and the room was nicely decorated.

There were a few oddities, however.

“What the hell is that?” I asked pointing to the peephole in the middle of the door at about bellybutton level. There was another one at the normal height.

Later, I mentioned that the bed was really, really low to the floor.

“I know!” Ava exclaimed. “That’s what I thought.” So we lay in bed and contemplated the lowness of the bed. We finally came to the conclusion that it must be due to the Contemporary decor.

When we were down in the lobby, Ava mentioned it to the front desk. “Yeah,” the clerk informed her. “You booked a handicapped room.”


For the rest of our stay, we kept having those “aha!” moments.

Aha! That explained the bars in the shower and around the toilet.

Aha! That explained the closet – the hanging bar was about three feet off the floor which was a problem if you had a dress.

Honestly, for as long as it took us to figure out the deal, perhaps the handicapped room isn’t really for wheelchairs but for those of us who should ride the little bus to work.

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