So we're safely ensconced at the Holiday Inn Express, kicked back, enjoyin' a Sammy Adams Winter Lager (which is actually a bock, but who's counting?) and a Drew Estates Dirt Torpedo, while patiently awaiting Pizza The Hut to arrive with dinner, supposedly within the hour. Because they ARE busy tonite.
I was pleasantly surprised when the desk clerk asked me if I wanted "smoking? or non-?" this afternoon, laboring as I am under the impression that ALL hotel chains in these United States surrendered to the anti-smoking Nazis long ago. Well, surprise. HIE didn't run up the white flag and we are most pleased. They will get my future bid'niz when I'm either (a) driven out of house and home by Ol' Man Winter or (b) find myself in a strange city for no apparent reason. Huzzah, and all that.
I thought I did a pretty good job of packing for my short stay, remembering my meds, the Kindle, the charger for my cell phone, the cigar cutter, a three-day supply of beer, yadda, yadda. And clothes. Can't forget those. But there's always sumthin', no? In this case it's a bottle opener, as the beer I drink does NOT come in twist-cap bottles. HIE to the rescue, again. There was a bottle opener at the front desk and it was put in my hot lil hand minutes ago with instructions to return it "when you're done."
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