My Kick'n Hotel Room...and Fat Naked Guy

When I got to my hotel in Chicago (after dragging approximately 248 pounds of luggage and camera gear through the airport and 2 el-train stations) the fancy schmancy bellman opened my cab door and loaded up my luggage and I went to the front desk to check in.
"Name?" she asked me.
"Tammi Nowack" I replied as she began typing away on her computer searching for my room.
"ooh, we have a very nice room for you this weekend Miss Nowack" she says.
"Great." I replied flatly(At this point I was just looking forward to collapsing on my bed for an hour before I had to get dressed for the cocktail party I was supposed to shoot that night).


She gave me my room key and told me my room number and I went up to my room. The first thing I noticed was that my room had a freaking doorbell outside it, which I thought was novel, but fun - and I proceeded inside where my mouth promptly fell open in disbelief. It was the hugest, nicest hotel room I had ever been in. The floors were hardwood. There was a bar, with barstools, bar sink, refrigerator. A plate of chocolate covered strawberries. A table with 4 chairs and a really expensive looking (albeit hideously ugly) vase/bowl thing on it. A sofa. An armchair. A armoire with a minibar in it and huge t.v.

But wait. There's more. A winding hallway. A bathroom. A master bedroom with a 4 poster bed (king size I might add). Another bathroom with a jet tub and bathrobes, several closets to spare, a dressing area. My own t.v. in there too.


But wait. There's more. In the bedroom...steps leading outside to a balcony. And I'm not talk'n about a 4ft x 4ft balcony-that-hangs-off-your-first-apartment-in-the-ghetto kind of balcony - I'm talk'n a HUGE brick wrap-around balcony18 stories up that hangs out over the streets of Chicago with a kick'n view of Michigan Ave. and the city skyline.


Um...yeah. I could get used to this lifestyle. I go back inside to tip the bellman who has brought up my bags for me and has taken the liberty of turning on every light in the room, 2 radios, and turned down the bed.
ok, whatever.
I tipped him way more than one person deserves for wheeling 2 pieces of luggage into an elevator and down a hallway, but I guess I thought he could use a little extra since he DID turn on every single light in the room and turn down the bed. Maybe he wanted me to really be able to SEE the luxury of the room so I would tip accordingly. Good plan - it worked.


This is the point in the story were my incredulity gets the best of me and I call down to the front desk to ensure that this really IS my room and that there hasn't been some sort of mixup.
"Why? Is there a problem Miss Nowack?"
"No maam. I'm just a little dissapointed that there isn't an actual person up here to hold a warm towel out for me when I exit the shower."


Just kidding.




So now I grab my camera and start taking pictures. I'm waiting for the hotel nazis to barge in and grab my luggage and take me down to my REAL room in the hotel basement next to the kitchen and the laundry room where Ricardo the linen boy folds all the towels, so I'm taking pictures while I have a chance! I go back out to the balcony to enjoy the view and take a few snapshots when I see it...one floor below me over the northeast side of the balcony. Shades wide open, bed a mere 2 feet from the window.
It's Naked Fat Guy and he's taking a little snoozer at 4:30 in the afternoon. I giggle uproariously and stealthily bring my camera to my eye and sneak a pic in. It's too good to pass up.



Here's the weird thing. He was there..in the bed, in all his naked glory EVERY SINGLE TIME I walked out on the balcony the entire weekend.
After the cocktail party? Still there.
Next morning, before breakfast? Still there.
Later that afternoon when I came back to the hotel before lunch? Yup..still there.

I think he must have used HIS fancy ugly bowl for a toilet because he NEVER left that bed. So everytime I saw him, I took his picture. Once I thought he saw me, but I think it was just a facial tic.







Anyway, that night I came back to the room MORE than ready for bed and climbed into that glorious mound of down feather fluff and felt like I was in heaven. I normally sleep with one cover-hogging man and 2 bed-hogging, kicking children so to have a large downy bed all to myself was pure heaven. I slept with the shades wide open (so as not to hinder my view of the city), smack in the middle of the bed, in my underwear, with all 5 pillows scrunched up under and around me.



And I drooled on every single one of 'em. :)