I travel enough to get upgraded at shitty hotels.
That’s almost poetic in its mundanity, is it not? Send me somewhere cool, I’m a peon just like everyone else. Yes, the rate is $289 a night, sir. But I’m a silver member! Doesn’t that mean anything? Yes, that you travel enough to be important in flyover country.
But send me to a place like Loveland, CO or Casper, WY, and watch the banal benefits roll in. One place gave me a free Snickers bar as part of my upgrade, which would be awesome if I were 11 (Yes, I ate it). Another place upped me to a room with a sofabed in addition to the regular bed, which is tremendous because, well, it isn’t, but whatever. Take upgrades where you can get ‘em, right?
So I’m 4 hours from a major metropolitan area, which happens approximately twice a month, and the nice folks at the discount brand of the major hotel chain hook me up with the handicapped room. Ever been in the handicapped room? Greg Giraldo has.
And he knows that’s it’s surprisingly awesome, especially if you’re an insensitive prick like me and can ignore that this room is wholly necessary for anyone with the misfortune of spinal problems. So if you can get past that, SHOWER BENCH!
When I was a much livelier drunkard, I would have killed for a shower bench. The water just cascades off you like you’re cloaked with shame (because you are), and there’s a nice little rail that would be perfect to put your beer on (it is).
Then there’s this pole with an extra showerhead that slides up and down it so you can position it wherever you want. You can blast your back entrance with a healthy shot of shower rain and clear out the fromunda. I did. You can give the power shot to your nipples and see if they stand up. They do. And best of all, you can position the showerhead so it looks like you’re interrogating your wang under a hot light at the police station. Where were you the night of March 12th?
Handicapped people have awesome stuff if you’re not handicapped.