Is that what summer is?
I spent last night at the Four Seasons (Philadelphia) with my mom and little brother X (he's not so little--he's 45). I was not impressed (although a friend asked, "Did you feel rich?").
My favorite part of the 4 seasons adventure: watching a woman with a bad blond dye job balance her paperwork on skimpy (but sexy--she wore L'eggs) legs. (My other brother, not X, later said that they have expensive call girls there--probably out of my price range).
According to my bro X, it's $525 a night at the Four Seasons (ours was a comp).
It is definitely a gorgeous hotel. On the way down the elevator, a stoic middle-aged man had on a Brooks Brothers shirt, so I asked, "Is that a Brooks Brothers shirt?" He nodded, painfully. I think the $525 room a night is a regular thing for him. "I used to have a purple Brooks Brothers shirt," I said. He looked at the elevator vents. I continued talking, "I can't find that purple shirt. Very frustrating." My brother scolded me for speaking with strangers. But I am known to speak with everyone, including drug addicts who beg for money in my neighborhood. I usually say to drug addicts, "You can't have my money, I don't agree with your crack usage." Then they go on to the next victim. The man in the Four Seasons elevator with the Brooks Brothers shirt has a lot in common with the drug addict; the BB man looks at elevator vents when I speak, and the drug addict looks for dopey neighbors who will fund his crack.
I was eavesdropping on people in the Four Seasons lobby who were discussing their trip to Latin America--these same people have met and seen one another at other Four Seasons hotels. But the truth of the matter: my mother has a much better bath tub than the one we had there, and I snore like a Black Bear in the Four Seasons hotel as I snore in my South Philly apartment. I won't be able to visit a Four Seasons hotel in Latin America (not sure they have one, but they used to have plenty of ex-Nazis). I will simply read my current favorite writer: Roberto Bolano, from Chile.
On another note, the French head waiter was quite frustrated when he had to show me how to make a decaf coffee with the N'espresso machine. His English verbs were quite tense. Thankfully the coffee was free, although we had missed the free pastries (they're taken away at 7 am).
Hope you all had a luxurious a weekend as well. And thanks to that nice housekeeper who gave me the free L'Occitane Soap--I hope the $2 tip I gave was sufficient.
