No, it's not what you're thinking- that is, if you are thinking something gross. If you are thinking something along the lines of an individual sized pizza, some tater tots, and a hot fudge sundae, you are close- but no cigar. The best thing I ever had delivered to my hotel room was a live gold fish. Or at least it held the "best room service" title for about two hours.
During one of my work trips, I found a great deal on The Hotel Monaco in downtown Portland. If you have not had the chance to stay at one, a Hotel Monaco is pretty swanky. Almost to the point that I felt like someone would escort me to my room while holding a stereo that was playing a walking theme song of my choice. Mine probably would have been Gangsta's Paradise. Just saying.
After my usual 'scope out the room and then flop on the bed for ten minutes' routine, I picked up the hotel's guide book. I was thumbing through it when something caught my eye.
I eagerly paced the room while I waited for my new friend to arrive. I already imagined all of the things I was going to tell him about and all of the great photos I was going to take of him. It was a dream coming true- a pet of my own on the road with me.
When there was a knock on the door, I made myself wait for at least five seconds before I opened it. "Yes?" (I pretended to have forgotten why someone might be knocking). "You called for a fish?" "Oh yeah- just put it over there." The dream deliverer set up my new best friend on my bed side table and then put a little placard next to the bowl: the fish's name. Andy Warhol. Clever.
I was so excited. I called my then boyfriend and woke him up (it was pretty late his time).
"I got a gold fish delivered to my room!!!!!"
"No- you don't get it. He is a real fish and his name is Andy Warhol."
While he was right- it was getting late, and I had a lot to do the next day, I just couldn't sleep. I stayed up and watched tv and kept stealing glances at Andy.
Me: furtive glance
Me: another furtive glance
Things were going well between me and my new friend.
I finally started to calm down and realized how worn out I was, so I decided to get ready for bed. At this point, I noticed that Andy was not looking so hot. He was swimming kind of funny like. Really fast spurts, then not at all. Then for a while on his side. Also, the water had changed colors pretty quickly. Now I'm no goldfish expert, but I knew something was not right.
I called the front desk and let them know that something was wrong with my goldfish. I could almost hear the eye roll from the receptionist. As I waited for a knock, I gave Andy some encouraging words. "It's going to be ok, buddy. Just hang in there."
Pretty soon the "dream deliverer" returned to check it out. He took one look at the bowl and said "ohhh yeah. Something is definitely wrong. I'll go get you a new one." A new one? I hadn't even gotten to know this one yet. Just give him some medicine and he'll perk right up. But, alas, Andy was whisked away and I waited patiently for my new friend. I wonder what he will look like. I wonder what his name is. Will he like me?
The man returned quickly with my new fish. He got him all set up in the same place and then left the room. I went over there excitedly to meet my new friend, then I saw his name card.... Andy Warhol. Well, that was about all I could handle for one night. My first friend died after hanging out with me for only two hours and then my new friend wasn't even good enough to get his own new name. This was horrible.
I decided enough was enough and went to sleep. As I turned the lights off and got in bed with a big sigh, I didn't even say goodnight to "Andy."