My husband and I are on a trek out to the midwest. We decided to stop in Hershey, PE, and stay the night, using the long drive as a very thin excuse to enjoy all that Hershey has to offer (spoiler alert: it's chocolate).
We decided to find the cheapest hotel that had a king bed available (because that is what you need when both you and your husband hover around the 6 feet range). We knew that such economy rares would come at a price, but we weren't here for a pool and a balcony. We were here to rest up until we stuffed our face with confectionery sugar.
We should've known something was up when we walked in and our room was cold. No, not just cold: freezing. We walked in and felt no difference in the air from outside. We cranked up the heat and the room was still an igloo (sans large chunks of ice). It wasn't until we stepped into the bathroom and felt a breeze strong enough that you could fly a kite that we realized why the room wouldn't heat up. So we closed the door, prayed we wouldn't need a shower, and continued to shiver.
When the room finally warmed up and we were finally ready to go to sleep, we pulled back the covers, only to find that someone had tried to make the bed with a set of standard-sized sheets. Poorly. The fitted sheet was stretched beyond its means, and it still only covered half the mattress. The other sheet attempted to hide this fact by covering up the other half.
What transpired after was a night of restless sleep, filled with the room dipping to absurdly low temperatures, only to soar to absurdly high temperatures. I cocooned myself with the (standard-sized) blanket, which I am pretty sure was stolen from a high school shop class's emergency fire extinguishing set, only to toss the covers off and, on more than one occasion, give up on sleep and say, "Fuck this; I'm going on Twitter."
It's a good thing that we're in Hershey, PE. I'm gonna need a lot of chocolate to keep me awake for the rest of today.
No comments:
Post a Comment