Confessions of a thief

I really like hotels.

What’s there not to like? Someone picks up after you…makes your bed…feeds you at all times of the day…has a pool…also for being fed next to…locks you away from the rest of the world (sightseeing? WHY??) and much as we like to say absolute power corrupts, we want some of that power. We want to be able to say I want Swiss berries dripping with Belgian chocolate and a glass of pink champagne, and have someone go get it.

On sightseeing, my friends and I went on a trip once to a place where you could go on safari and look at elephants or whatever. We weren’t allowed to go on the safari (we were on the Semi Sufferer package) but we didn’t even want to. We just kind of sat around and vegged all day. The whole time. I got some serious overeating drama after that. (no, seriously. For crying.)

One of the best things about hotels is the bathrooms. It’s too big…it’s too much…it’s just right. I WILL fit. And the huge fluffy towels.

And the bathrobes? Which I always want to steal. They wrap around you like a comforting (dead) polar bear. You just want to lie down and tell it all your criminal secrets. And never, ever leave.

What I usually steal is (NO, NOT THE 42″ TV) the little soaps and shampoos they leave for me. Yes, FOR ME. What are they going to do with the one ounce left over? PSSSSH. You’re SUPPOSED to take that stuff with you.

Everyone knows that.

I was in a hotel last month and they had the fluffiest of the fluffs necessary for drying our heat-soaked bodies (porno? No? Ok). I reeeeeally wanted to take a towel. They wouldn’t have noticed – they are a new hotel. I almost felt obligated to take it so that they would begin to get acclimatized to Hotel Thievery (I prefer to call it Leisurely Lifting). Because everyone knows it’s not stealing that makes you a thief…it’s the degree of swell on your suitcase as you leave. Having to sit on your bag makes you black as sin…anything below that is moderately passable. Especially minute shampoo bottles.

I didn’t take the towel.
I DID take a flannel.
Because…the room I took it from, they had not even put one in in the first place. So of course they were not going to notice it was gone. I was balancing out the equation.

This is the biggest job I’ve ever done. I gotta tell you, I feel a little guilty…until I step into the shower and the perfect, delicate combination of smooth-on-rough of that beautiful, beautiful facecloth envelops me in its glory.
Nope, still guilty.
But soft.

😀 😀 😀


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