I’ve been told I am a loud smoker.  My mother caught me smoking when I was 18 - on the phone.  Apparently, she could actually hear me exhaling.

It seems that my passion for smoking is actually audible.  I’ve been told it’s something like:

“heeeeeee”  long pause that makes me sound like a pot smoker if i try to speak, followed by “pwhoooooooo”

I tell you that, so that I can tell you this story:

My weekend trip to The Mall of America was absolutely wonderful.  We didn’t get lost, we got rockstar parking everywhere we went, and damn near everything went even better than expected. I do have two small inspirations for my first FOAD post on Thursday - but overall, a glorious weekend.

Anyway, my friend and I checked into our hotel - which we’d practically stolen on Priceline.com - after a long day of shopping (8.5 hours to be exact) and were eager to find a restaurant where we could sit and unwind from the day’s battle.

I called guest services for a little guidance.

GS: “Guest services, this is Judy, can I help you?”

Me: “Yes, can you tell me if you have a restaurant on-site?  I couldn’t find any information in my little Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Us folder.”

GS: “Absolutely, miss.  We have a restaurant located blah blah blah that serves blah blah blah and is open until 9.”

Me: “Nine?  Hmm.  Ok.  And you do have a smoking section in the restaurant, correct?”

“heeeeeee” (that’s me smoking - remember?)

GS: “No ma’am.  There is no smoking anywhere in our hotel.  Except for the 12th floor”

Me:

from my room on the sixth floor

“pwhoooooooo”

“Umm.  Actually…. umm… Thank You.”

*click*

My friend and I proceeded to place wet towels across all of the doorways and spray whorish amounts of scented body spray all over the room.  We cowered on our beds for fifteen minutes, waiting for the inevitable arrival of the no-smoking enforcement squad who would drag us from our rooms so that we could be tarred and feathered in the main lobby as proper punishment for our crimes.

I tried to calm our fears by explaining that I had specifically asked for a smoking room when we checked in and had been assured that they “could do that, ma’am”.  I would simply tell the enforcers that and we would be fine.  Really.  We’d be ok.

We decided to high-tail it over to TGIF’s and give our room some time to air out, just in case.

And TGIFs?  Well… you’ll be hearing more about them come Thursday.

Damn it.  This post was a lot funnier in the car this morning.

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