Early last week I found out that I had won a drawing held by the 5th Avenue Theater and my winnings included two tickets to the show Sunday in the Park with George, a dinner at Sazerac, a one night-stay at Hotel Max, *and* a limo ride to and from the hotel.
I KNOW RIGHT!?! My very good fortune was enough to carry me through the week, especially since I researched every aspect of it. I studied the menu, something I love to do before we eat out. I read all the Hotel Max reviews. I listened to some of the play. And I had told my husband that I guess I didn’t have to get him a birthday present. Win-win-win!
The limo pulled up Saturday afternoon and some of our neighbors gawked as Mike and I ducked into the ride. I would have gawked, too. I am, by nature, a gawker, a looky-loo, a GIRL WUT CHU STARING AT? I stare until I realize that I am staring, then I have to look away. It’s like when I listen to something funny on my iPhone and find myself laughing or smirking, but then I have to pretend that my face looks like that anyway, so in other words, TOTALLY CRAZY.
As the limo reached the end of the block, I realized that I had left my iPhone on the kitchen counter and I entered a mini-panic attack. I told Mike that I could just jump out, run down the street and get it. He shook his head and said that it was probably a good idea to leave the phone at home. Like it was a message from the universe that I didn’t need to be connected all the time. But that’s easy for someone like my cellphone-free husband to say, a man who doesn’t know the wonderful pleasure of co-sleeping with your phone and less pleasurable moments like accidentally dialing someone with your elbow.
We were dropped off at the Hotel Max and we had a few minutes to explore our room before heading to the show. There are some people who can act like a limo rides and hotel rooms are no big deal, but I am not one of those people. I do not have a poker face when something impresses me. Remember that scene in The Miracle Worker when Helen Keller holds an bird hatching in her hands? That’s my face when anything remotely exciting happens. You should see me when someone lets me merge into traffic, it’s like I just learned the sign for water.
Hotel Max is a very beautiful and sleek hotel that offered amenities I was not used to, like not having any rooms that charged by the hour. I surveyed the room immediately, checking how much it would cost for a Kit-Kat from the honor bar (answer: $3.50) Also, I found this little tin that had some funny-looking Altoids inside.
But guess what?
Don’t act like you’ve never seen an intimacy kit. Or should I say, don’t act me because I’ve never seen an intimacy kit so when I do, I have to tell everyone LOOK WHAT I FOUND! And of course giggle a lot because this is how babies are not made!
I left my camera in the hotel room and without my iPhone, I couldn’t snap pictures of the well-coiffed attendees at the theater. The women with expensive purses slung over their shoulders and dressed in slick black boots. The play itself was very simple with elaborate touches of lighting and special effects. It was very stunning, but I don’t have the words to properly describe the plot (see Helen Keller joke above) and how magical it was.
After the show, we headed over to Sazerac for dinner and it was the first meal I’ve had that I haven’t taken a picture of what I ate. I had the breaded catfish with jalapeno-lime butter and mashed potatoes, and Mike had the sirloin steak.
We walked back to the hotel, holding hands past the teens in prom dresses and other kids hanging around on the corner. We told ourselves that we would never let Nathan do that–spend nights downtown Seattle with hoodlums and kids who have never watched an episode of Star Trek Voyager.
In the morning, I worked out in the fitness room, watching the TV attached to the elliptical. For over an hour, I worked out to Kill Bill. That’s a great workout video! All this time, I’ve been trying to lose weight listening to techno remixes and Souja Boy when I could have been sweating to Uma Thurman taking down the Yakuza and plucking Darryl Hannah’s other eye out.
After a quick walk around Pike’s Place Market, we checked out of our room. I told the man at the front desk what we had ordered from the honor bar and was glad that we had just limited our late-night purchases to junk food. How embarrassing would it be if I had to say, “Yeah, we got a bag of Famous Amos cookies, a Kit-Kat,” and then whisper, “And the intimacy kit…”
Outside before our limo came to whisk us home, I had to get this photo taken to remind me that it wasn’t just a dream. And also so people would understand why I took all the Hotel Max M-logo coasters and stationary.