Hipsters Ruin Everything
I’m in San Jose staying at the Fairmont Hotel (as I always do when I travel to San Jose for court appearances.) I love staying at hotels (especially on someone else’s dime). I love room service. I love how dark hotels are when you close the blinds. I like being able to dump my suitcase on the floor and let my clothes explode out of my suitcase like a bomb. I like the tiny lotions. I like the bathrobes. I like that I can make phone calls while I’m peeing. I like that I can watch TV while I’m peeing. I like smoking in the bathroom with the fan on even though there’s a no smoking sign (while peeing and making phone calls and watching TV, obvs.). I like extended check-outs. I like mini-bars. I like being a member of “The President’s Club” and being able to haughtily proclaim at the front desk that I am a member of said club even though the only perk I get for being in this esteemed club is free Wi-Fi that doesn’t even work in my room. Oh, and membership is free. So there’s that. I like this particular hotel because the concierges know me. “Back again?” they say every time I show up. Even some of the cab drivers know me. I reckon they don’t see a lot of small black ladies playing dress-up in lawyer suits.
All that said, this particular stay has been… interesting. I first noticed something was strange when the line at the front desk was 25 people deep.
I then noticed something was really strange when I looked around and saw a lot of this: