Clearly there's only 1 answer...
The annual Ladies Night up in San Fran-Freak-O
(as Michael Savage likes to call it).
Queen Elizabeth:
Knowing I would find a killer deal on a hotel, my posse put me in charge of reservations.
I did not fail them.
We made reservations to stay at the Westin St. Francis. This is a beautiful, rich in history, smack-dab on Union Square,
world-renowned hotel.
Dignitaries from all over have stayed here; Queen Elizabeth, General Macarthur, Barack Obama, Shirley Temple, the UN has met here, Hollywood stars, poets, playwrites, literi, & several US Presidents have stayed here.
We were all THRILLED about staying here.
So we arrive.
The city is bustling & the night-life is hopping as we roll up to parking.
We enter the grand, lavish lobby all giddy and excited
(as any group of ladies escaping responsibility for a night would be).
I go check us in.
The lady behind the desk tells me:
"We have an option for you. Due to major events in the city this weekend, we are overbooked & trying to open up some rooms. Would you be willing to give up your room & we will put you up in a comparable hotel just a short distance away from here? We will cover all charges (hotel, parking, cabs)."
I pow-wow with the ladies.
Knowing Tat & other husbands would be EXTREMELY impressed with the ladies, we all oblige.
Heck we don't care! As long as it's free & just as good as the Westin, then sign us up.
So we're shown pics & told we'd be staying at Hotel Vertigo.
Looks great to us. And it's FREE!
So we hop in our awaiting cab & cruise around Union Square.
Cabbie #1 is crazy. I. MEAN. CRAZY.
Ever play Mario Kart when you were 10 years old?
Remember what a crazy driver you were?
Remember feeling bad for Yoshi?
I know how he felt.
We exited the cab after SEVERAL long minutes of chaos, slammed breaks, whiplash & nausea.
We should have known what a treat we were in for when Cabbie #1 said:
"Oh yes! I stayed here my first time in San Francisco. It's a great hotel."
We arrive at Hotel Vertigo...in the hood.
Looks somewhat cute from the outside.
Lobby is decent.
We are told our room has 2 twin beds.
We say:
"There's a mistake. There are 5 of us & we were told at the Westin you would give us 2 queens."
Again, we are told we can have 2 twins & we can go take a look at the room.
So we walk through this hallway, taking care to look over our shoulders for ghosts or creepy bleeding children at the end of the hallway:
We pass doors like this, taking care not to study the scene too hard lest we become witnesses in a murder trial.
We enter a tiny, moldy room with 2 twin beds. Upon entering the room we hear the guest next door make a horrid bodily noise (still not sure which part of the body the noise emerged from) & assume that red tape will soon be covering his door as well.
We laugh hysterically & curse the Westin.
We then go back down the stairs, which by the way were made for ghost children & anorexic crack-addicts, not 6.5 month pregnant ladies who are wider than the stair-well.
We hop back in another cab and say, "Yo, home to Bel-Air!" (meaning the Westin).
Cabbie #2 was JUST as entertaining as #1.
He started asking all sorts of questions about libido & pregnancy.
NICE.
We wipe off our laughing grins & march right up to the counter and DEMAND the manager meet us pronto.
Well, not really. We patiently waited in the long line & used our firm, yet pleasant 6 inch voices.
We are apologized to profusely & told that they have never sent anyone there & didn't really know much about the place.
Oh we gave them the low-down.
In fact, friend Heather even made sure to use the phrase:
"Yes, we could hear the man next to us defecating in his room."
We are given free drinks, we are given a free upgraded room for the night, we are given free parking (which was going to cost 50 bones!) & we are given a free long-distance call. Not that the call was used, but thought you should know what great care was taken of us.
So that's the story of Queen Elizabeth II.
5 am:
What kind of a week-end getaway would it be if we actually got some rest?
Exactly.
The night & early morning were filled with chatter, chatter, & even more chatter.
And how could you make Cyndi Lauper proud if there isn't any jumping, & breaking, of the beds on a weekend getaway?
10,000 Calories:
And last, but not least, what kind of gluttonous weekend would it have been if there wasn't face-stuffing. All night long. All morning long. And all brunch-time long?
& we decided that we would HAVE to shop all afternoon long the next day to burn those kcals.
What a lovely, & let us not forget memorable, weekend in the City.
