I’m a room service junkie. Usually when I travel I stay with friends or relatives or in cheap motels with a Denny’s next door, but when I stay at a place like The Marquette in downtown Minneapolis, I’m all over the room service menu.
I just hung up the phone with a nice man with a perfect Minnesota accent after ordering a bowl of oatmeal with skim milk and a big bowl of fruit. What I really wanted was the egg white omelet with spinach, roasted asparagus tips and artichoke hearts, but I woke up to my American Express bill in my email inbox and decided oatmeal was the more frugal choice this morning.
Last night, my friend Todd and I went out for dinner. We walked along the Nicollet Mall (a long street in downtown Minneapolis with shops, restaurants and other businesses) and decided to eat at an outdoor table at The News Room. I ordered the grilled asparagus with parsley oil and parmesan cheese, and a spinach salad. I ate half a slice of bread smothered in brie and thought I’d died and gone to food heaven. Despite the fact that I walked into the men’s room rather than the ladies room, and that a waitress and the two women seated next to us flirted unabashedly with Todd (no, we weren’t on a “date,” but how did they know we weren’t together?), it was a perfect dinner. Oh, and regarding the bathroom incident, in my defense, there were no signs and I was distracted by the two-way mirrors above the sinks in which you can watch the opposite sex washing their hands. A very cute guy waved at me as he rubbed his hands in the sink across from me. If that’s not a little discombobulating…
In the time it’s taking me to write this, room service came, and I’ve eaten all the strawberries, blackberries, blueberries and bananas, and the oatmeal is almost gone. I was reminded I’m still not a fan of skim milk, but I was too lazy and too underdressed (still in my pajamas) to go down to my car and grab the soy milk, so I added a little extra brown sugar to the oatmeal to counter the gag-me taste of the milk.
One last thing before I go, I wanted to mention the bathroom here. It has a ginormous shower with glass doors and is situated opposite of the wall-sized mirror. It’s hard not to watch yourself shower, which is something – thin or heavy – I’ve never done before.
Also, my room faces the IDS Center, the tallest building in Minneapolis. I used to date a guy who worked there. Not much of a boyfriend, but he let me drive his Corvette.
In a few hours I’ll be on the road to my girlhood hometown of Jasper, Minnesota, population: 500. There’s an all-school reunion going on this weekend along with their annual goat races. I’ll stop at a grocery store here in the metro and stock up on Lynn food (my father bought me a Styrofoam cooler to haul around the state with me this week) before heading south and west. I’m staying with my cousin who’s hosting the Class of ’81 party tonight in his machine shed. Ah…country parties. If you grew up in a small town, you know what I mean. At least tonight we’re not lined up on a dirt road with headlights shining on the keg so you won’t spill your drink and car stereos blaring for entertainment. Now those were the ultimate country parties.
Wow. I’m full and it’s time to get into my no-holds-barred shower and get ready for the day. I suspect the oatmeal will stick with me all the way to Jasper. It may be the last decent breakfast I have until Monday. Say a little prayer for my stomach this weekend. I’d appreciate it.