Failed Attempts To Make It On Time To Complimentary Hotel Breakfasts
Usually served at 4:37 in the morning and lasting for about six minutes, the elusive complimentary hotel breakfast is sighted as often as the rare Yangtze finless porpoise. But a few brave souls have Percy Fawcetted their way down to the lobby and partook of the precious toast and toast-related products within. I am not such a man.
Sometimes you have to accept that you’re not the kind of person who can make a free hotel breakfast. Though attempts have been made.
9:13 a.m. Holiday Inn Express, Spokane, Washington
-Seventeen minutes remained before the 9:30 a.m. breakfast shutters were to be slammed shut with or without people inside. It seemed like enough time to put on pants, make it to the lobby, and turn left at the fake fern, as the front desk lady advised me the previous night with doubtful eyes.
But several obstacles remained: the prospect of sunlight, differentiating between the fake fern and the real fern, and seeing other people so early in the morning. I moved toward the door of my hotel room, but the goose down comforter gripped my leg, and I retreated to my starfish position in bed.
8:57 a.m. La Quinta, Albuquerque, New Mexico
-Made it to the hallway, but got involved in a conversation with a departing sex worker and then tripped on a bucket of ice. One of the maids placed me on her housekeeping cart and wheeled me back to my room.
3:23 p.m. Best Western, Milwaukee, Wisconsin
-Freshly shaved and wearing my breakfast shirt and unaware of the time, I power-walked into the lobby breakfast nook thingy only to be greeted by a precocious child checking in to compete in the local spelling bee. “You’re not looking for the morning breakfast, are you?” he vollied. I told him I merely sought the pool. “That’s on the roof,” he said, so I took my leave.
9:25 a.m. Sunset Value Inn and Tavern, Lubbock, Texas
-Woke up with five minutes to go thanks to the exceedingly vocal elevator next to my room. Strolled downstairs in my complimentary bathrobe — or the bathrobe the last person in my room left behind — and waded into the busy breakfast waltz. The eggs were gone, the toast had been buttered, and all that remained was a single rotted banana. I reached for it as my trophy, but a homeless man snatched it up and peeled it while staring at me.
10:10 a.m. Motel 6, Cleveland, Ohio
-Seem to be staying in worse and worse places. Not sure if my inability to get up on time is related to my declining budget. This motel does not have a complimentary breakfast spread, but the front desk guy took pity and handed me a sticky bun in a wrapper. Would need to find a napkin elsewhere.
1:30 a.m. Red Roof Inn, Baltimore, Maryland
-Decided the only solution is to sleep in the breakfast room, in the hopes that I would be woken up by the morning breakfast hustle and be right on time for stale muffins and those runny Dannon yogurt cups. Then I might be one of those people who has tasted the splendor of a hotel breakfast and begun the day anew. Set my camp next to the waffle bar.
12:48 p.m. Red Roof Inn, Baltimore, Maryland
-Woke up to the sound of a janitor sweeping up. All signs of breakfast were gone, and only toast crumbs and detached waffle squares remained. Utter failure. I knew then I could never be one of those people who eats an early morning hotel breakfast and then poops at lunch.
“I’m sorry, you missed it,” the janitor said. I walked dejected through the automatic doors before turning back briefly. “Was it good?” I asked.
“It was more than that,” he said. “It was beautiful.”
