Fear of the Day: room service

I’ve just consumed a giant bowl of Ramen noodles and grilled chicken that totally filled me up, or so I thought. Until I returned to my hotel room and glanced at the room service menu. There are like four restaurants in this hotel, and you can order anything from them until 2 a.m. They advertise things like Georgia Peach Pie and gin (they totally go together).

I’m really not hungry, but how often will I have the chance to order these things at this ungodly hour (8 EST) again? The chances are that this will not occur again until tomorrow night. I don’t know that I can wait that long. It doesn’t matter that the room service price says $8 for the pie and $12 for the gin, plus there’s a $25 minimum and a 20 percent gratuity. I could very well go downstairs and order this myself, but that is not the same. I want to wait an hour and have my ice cream sit in a puddle with an island of peach pie in the middle. And then I want to eat it in my pajamas and fall asleep singing “The sun will come out tomorrow, tomorrow, you’re only a day away.” That’s the perfect ending to a non-perfect day.

Instead I sit here feeling guilty, and telling myself I don’t need the pie. The pie will just make me feel even more guilty. Then I think if I have the gin, the guilt will all go away regardless. Actually I think that should be a new rule at every restaurant: all desserts must be served with alcohol for any women who order them. That would solve a lot of problems. Until that day comes, however, I need to put a “room service block” on my phone when checking in (similar to the adult programming block). At the very least, I need to disable the phone immediately upon entering the room. You can never be too safe.

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