I wanted a bed. You gave me air quotes.
Irony is sublime. It can be anyway. In film, in visual art, in fiction – in all those places, irony deftly applied can’t be beat. I EAT that shit up.
But in a hotel, at 10:00, when you’re checking in after six hours sitting in coach next to a chatty three year old, Irony is a big fat asshole maneuver. Upon reaching my room, I am not looking for an opportunity to begrudgingly say "Ah, hotel. You win. Well done. Yes, ha, the room is mismatched and wittily uncomfortable. I see what you did there. I get it, funny hotel. The price per night itself is ever so jolly, but the crappy mismatched bullshit you are peddling really brings it home. Wasn't expecting jejune, you scoundrel. I get it. Heh. You magnificent self-indulgent bastard of a hotel. And I can tell that it's just going to get funnier every time I walk in."
It's not even irony, though. That’s more like mean-spirited, hair trigger sarcasm.
I am staying at a sarcastic hotel.
(I’m also really, really tired today.)
**
Kid on the plane story:
Kid: Do you have any kids?
Me: I have a daughter and a son.
Kid: Do you like your daughter?
Me: Yeah, I love my daughter.
Kid: That nasty.
But in a hotel, at 10:00, when you’re checking in after six hours sitting in coach next to a chatty three year old, Irony is a big fat asshole maneuver. Upon reaching my room, I am not looking for an opportunity to begrudgingly say "Ah, hotel. You win. Well done. Yes, ha, the room is mismatched and wittily uncomfortable. I see what you did there. I get it, funny hotel. The price per night itself is ever so jolly, but the crappy mismatched bullshit you are peddling really brings it home. Wasn't expecting jejune, you scoundrel. I get it. Heh. You magnificent self-indulgent bastard of a hotel. And I can tell that it's just going to get funnier every time I walk in."
It's not even irony, though. That’s more like mean-spirited, hair trigger sarcasm.
I am staying at a sarcastic hotel.
(I’m also really, really tired today.)
**
Kid on the plane story:
Kid: Do you have any kids?
Me: I have a daughter and a son.
Kid: Do you like your daughter?
Me: Yeah, I love my daughter.
Kid: That nasty.
Labels: Greg's Life As Nincompoop, My Idiotic Job
posted by Greg Mills at 8:51 AM
3 Comments:
Sarcastic hotel= bad
Man eating hotel with nasty disposition that's feeling peckish and hasn't had a thing since dinner and it's nearing midnight= terrifying
I fear for you.
I first read that as "man eating hotel", vs "man-eating hotel" and that's a whole different visual.
Ha! You do stay in interesting places Mr. Mills!
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