An American Girl in Washington

Heaven. I’m in Heaven.

Posted in Travel by AGinDC on 13 February 2012

One of the nice things about this job is that I get to try lots of new things. Cars (thank you Enterprise!). Cities. Foods. People. Ways to embarrass myself. Etc. I also get to try new hotels, but not nearly as often as I thought. Due to the wonders of Priceline bidding (I do work for a non-profit, after all), I often end up in the same old spot. I stay at the Hyatt Regency in Cleveland so much that the other day the (very, very cute) valet said, “You again?”. Yeah. So I now know exactly what kind of lotion and shampoo I’ll get at a Hyatt Regency (crappy), Sheraton Grand (crappier), and Wyndham (surprisingly good, but the hotels are crappy). I’m also used to middle-of-the-road luxury. It’s not a La Quinta, but it’s not the St. Regis either. I’ve learned to appreciate the small things, like the sheer grandeur of that giant Manchester Grand Sheraton in San Diego. The window seat on the 21st floor of the Sheraton Grand in Sacramento. Hmmm… I’m starting to see a pattern. Apparently I like Sheratons more than Hyatts. That figures, they’re owned by Starwood (see below). And occasionally, I get to stay in absolutely amazing digs like the Sir Francis Drake in San Francisco, and it makes it all worth it. This is just such a tale.

On Thursday night I got off my third trip and sixth plane in four days absolutely exhausted. I had a red-eye the night before and arrived in Cleveland with enough time to change and brush my teeth in the airport bathroom, slather conditioner in my dry, frizzy hair (the curls were so flat it looked like they’d been sitting under a brick for two days) and drive my rental car (cute little Mazda, drove well actually) straight to a meeting. And then another meeting. And then I checked into a hotel for two whole hours for three conference calls and a fifteen minute nap. I meant to take a shower but that never happened. Then back on a plane. Then a Vegas layover. Then another plane. Then a thirty minute wait at Enterprise for a Toyota Yaris. By the time I drove into San Diego (which made me so happy I blasted Rufus Wainwright’ s “California” in the rental car shuttle. I’m really starting to love this town) I was exhausted and just wanted to crawl into my sad little average hotel bed under my average hotel covers in my average hotel room. But after I gave my car to the valet, I walked into a grand lobby of beiges and blues and crystal chandeliers and guests who made me look like the new housekeeper. Live jazz was playing from a grand old restaurant and as I walked by stylish people were swing dancing the night away. The dapper-looking concierge gave me my room key for, the top floor. As I rode up I could feel my spirits rising and as I headed down the hallway, past the Presidential Suite, I decided that things were looking up. When my room was next door, I knew they were.

The Yves Clement!

Just in case there weren't enough on the bed...

The note from "Michelle"

I walked into Nirvana. Slippers on the floor, chocolates on the pillow next to a note from someone I can only surmise is Michelle Obama informing me that tomorrow will be sunny with a high of 69. Of course it will. Water with glasses on both sides of the bed. A custom Yves Clement drip painting as the headboard. French lotions and soaps in the gorgeous bathroom along with a loofah and every bathroom accessory you could desire. The furniture is gorgeous. The curtains are French. I am a happy girl. This, is the way life should be. But of course, what more would you expect from the people who own the W? I love you Starwood (see above).

The next morning, my breakfast came.It was delicious, of course. A pot of glorious tea, wonderful pastries, perfect bacon. I halted my checkout until 2 so I could enjoy as much as I could of the glorious room. The shower wasn’t that great but I was willing to give it a pass. Once I had to leave (after unsuccessfully trying to rob the maids cart) I had wine and lunch in the restaurant downstairs and held a conference call in the lobby. I really didn’t want to go.


Even the paper had its own little bag

Sadly, the next night I was back at a Sheraton Grand. But as long as I know there are places like the U.S. Grant waiting for me, it’s more motivation to work twice as hard towards my dreams.




2 Responses

Subscribe to comments with RSS.

  1. classicconfusion said, on 13 February 2012 at 9:23 pm

    I have never seen a newspaper bag like that before in my life. What a nice surprise of a hotel room 🙂

  2. […] Friday, when I got stuck in San Diego (did I tell you about that?) and stayed in the gorgeous US Grant Hotel, I was there to speak at a Young/World President’s Organization event (awesome) and to sit on […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: