C'mon Inn

I hate it when I fall asleep with my mouth open. It happened again today, on a plane. I woke up and felt stupid, wondering who saw me. It never fails…I get an aisle seat and I fall asleep…jaw drops open. The thing is, I always wake up just enough to realize my mouth is open. Its one of those things I’d rather not know about. I know that everyone that walks past me laughs at the guy with his mouth open. I hate it when it happens to me, but I really love when it happens to other people. It’s just that no matter how attractive one thinks one is, an open mouth when asleep immediately makes one less appealing. I recently heard a story of a hot girl in New York City who regularly falls asleep on the subway with her mouth open, tongue out. Then she goes into work wondering who saw her and how many germs she ingested. I love it. When I was growing up my family would go on a road trips and my brothers and I would put things in my mom’s mouth when she would fall asleep.. One time we put one of my Dad’s cigars in her mouth and snapped a picture. Perfectly normal behavior.

I’m on a plane headed for Casper, Wyoming, a town where I never dreamed I would be spending three days. It’s for work of course. As you know, I am traveling a lot these days. It’s hard at times, but I am learning to find ways to enjoy it. For instance, I love to drive my compact rental cars as if they are race cars. A few weeks ago I was being a total bad ass racing through Berkeley in my bitchin Kia Rio and somehow ended up getting stuck on the Bay Bridge in the buses only lane. Last week I had an HHR…if you don’t know what that is you might want to Google this nightmare. I mean, come on, who do they market this crap to? Please forgive me if you drive an HHR or if it’s your dream care, but if so, you’ve got problems. This week I am driving the always classy, PT Cruiser…a car that demands respect, and by respect, I mean laughter.

I’ll be lodging at the sure to be fantastic, “C’mon Inn”. Yeah, I’m serious about that one. I was told it’s the nicest lodging in town. The bar has been set high though. I mean, I don’t want to sound uppity, but I happen to be a member of the Hampton Inn’s exclusive Platinum Club. I get treated like a king when I walk through those doors, and when I say king, I mean fresh towels. And when I say fresh towels, I mean every other day. Yep, it pays to be in the Platinum Club.

More to come…

bs.