I am staying at a Best Western. My "boss" usually goes for a bit more upper class, but this Best Western boasts the "oldest lounge act". I have yet to check it out, but this was the draw.
|The days of the lounge act. What is Sophia looking at?|
I know I am supposed to write my "Feasting Friday" post, but I am not feasting. Well, I did last night. Starved to death, I followed the gang to a Trattoria near the show headquarters. I ate two slices of lightly crisped Italian bread, two slices of pizza Margarita, a delicious dinner salad with goat cheese and balsamic vinegarette and we shared the filet mignon with a wine, mushroom sauce that demanded sopping your Italian bread in. I can't remember the name of the desert we stabbed our spoons into like it was a wild beast, it was kind of a cannoli/ eclair thingie.
I was stuffed and dragging by the time I checked into my room. I collapsed into crisp, soft cotton (is that possible?) sheets. I think reading a trashy novel in a hotel room is a must, but all I had was my book, Poser, by Claire Dederer. It's a memoir as it relates to her yoga practice. Funny, dark, unpretentious and truthful, this book isn't a gripping page turner as much as it is a book I can relate to.
I am off to the lounge for the breakfast that lasts from 7 AM to 2 PM. Lot's of retirees live around here; all day breakfasts are a must.
Then it will be time for my "lounge act"; Selling the art of John Lennon. Wish me luck!